Cave Creature
by FreakingCrazy
Summary: Something funny is going on around the village, and it isn't Jokey's fault.
1. Chapter 1

**Ladies and gentlemen, here's a new story for you to either enjoy or laugh at. I'm kind of hoping more for the first reaction though. If the title seems a mite bit familiar, there's a reason for that. Hey, before I explain that though, can we have a moment's silence please? Today, Crazy, Frittzy, and Cin have officially met their end. Their stories have been deleted, and they won't be reappearing again. You can all cheer now, I suppose. Anyhow, one of those past stories they starred in was "The Legend of The Cave Creature" See where I'm going with this? Despite the similar titles, there is very little in common with this story and that one. This story takes place after Season 8 and before Season 9.**

**Lights, camera, action!**

The forest that surrounded Smurf Village was bright and active in the afternoon daylight, and the weather seemed to be just as nice. All the creatures that inhabited the area were taking advantage of the lovely day, including the blue skinned residents. One certain Smurf was searching for rocks while dragging his grumbling brother along. Clumsy Smurf was on a mission. He was going to find the perfect rock to match the perfect day. Every rock he'd ever found reflected how the day he'd found them had been, and he was determined to find a lovely stone that matched such a lovely day. Brainy Smurf did not share his determination or desire. As the bespectacled Smurf kicked aside another pebble with a small mutter, it was very clear that he also did not share his brother's cheerful demeanor.

"Gee Brainy, this sure is a pretty rock. Golly, do ya think it belongs to someone else?" Clumsy asked, holding and looking at a milky smooth rock that looked more like a pearl than stone. His best friend only rolled his eyes and continued to grumble under his breath for a minute. Brainy finally sighed, rolled his eyes once again, and opened his mouth. The last action alone was usually enough for their other brothers to either walk away or get ready to kick a certain someone to Kingdom Smurf.

"Clumsy, Clumsy, Clumsy, if that rock really belongs to someone else, they wouldn't just leave it on the ground for anyone to take. Besides, even if it does, they obviously didn't like it enough to keep it with them or try not to lose it. As I always say, finders keepers, losers weepers. Why, it smurftantly makes sense, because…" By that point Clumsy wasn't listening. Even though he always tried to pay attention to his best friend, he was currently faced with a moral dilemma. If the rock DID belong to someone, then it would be stealing, and Clumsy wasn't a thief. On the other hand, Brainy did have a point. Besides, if Brainy said it was alright…Well, he wouldn't lie to Clumsy, would he?

"Well, if ya say so…" Clumsy smiled again at the strange rock in his hands. He turned around, heading back towards the village. Brainy simply sighed in relief and walked back with him, the autumn leaves crumpling under both their feet. Both failed to notice the cave opening a ways behind where they had found the rock.

Neither noticed the red glowing eyes that appeared and then followed them as they left either. Hmm, they shouldn't have done that.

* * *

In a different part of the forest, where the air was cooler and murkier, where there was nothing but compact earth and dirt, and where few animals dared travel, was another Smurf with a love for Mother Nature's rocks and stones. Miner Smurf sang to himself in the dark, swinging his pick against the stony cave walls by dim candlelight. He would start his coal delivering system when the winter months came, but until then he was back at work doing what he always did: Collecting rocks and metals that were in the tunnels. But what he wouldn't give for some company. Miner knew the others didn't really like working with him, given the atmosphere he normally inhabited. Honestly though, it was nice to have someone to work with and someone to talk to. Oh well, no one was going to come by today. Greedy had already stopped by earlier with lunch, and the cook couldn't really spend any time away from his kitchens as it was.

"Oh my darlin, oh my darlin, oh my darlin Smurfette…" He sang the familiar song, each word echoing around him against the rocky walls.

"You are lost and smurf forever, dreadful sorry, Smurfette." He wondered briefly as he sang and swung if anyone ever listened to the other lyrics, or if they only heard the chorus. Their loss, he supposed. Miner abruptly stopped singing and swinging when a large white mouse smurfed by, squeaking. That was odd. Such large creatures rarely ever dared enter the dark areas Miner frequented, and he'd certainly never seen one this far underground.

Despite the fact that the wind hardly ever touched the tunnels and cave, a strong gust of wind whooshed by and blew his candle out. Another oddity.

Miner fumbled around for a match he knew he should have taken with him but didn't. Looked like he was done for now. He'd get back to work after getting one of the matches he stashed near the surface. So he thought, at least. Like his two brothers, Miner failed to take notice of the red eyes that had been watching him. He did, however, notice the glow they gave off. Stiffening, he turned towards the source of light only to be tackled to the hard ground.

No creature heard his screaming, as even the mouse was long gone.

* * *

"Papa Smurf, I've never heard of or seen anything like this before in my life!" The leader only hummed and continued his examination, frowning deeply. He finally sighed and turned away, still frowning.

"Neither have I, Dabbler, neither have I. Now Miner, would you please describe the encounter once more? Maybe I've smurfed something." Said Smurf was currently sitting up on an examination table. He looked more or less alright, save a few scratches… and a wiggling flat pink thing on his face in place of where his nose would normally be.

"Well, I was mining like I normally do, when all of a sudden a mouse rushes by. I figured that was weird enough, but before I could do anything, my candle blew out and Oi saw these two red glowing eyes. Then whatever they belonged to tackled me. Oi managed to smurf away to run to the surface and back here to find out I have _this _on my face." Miner explained, gesturing at his face by the end he was giving a small grin with his eyebrows raised. "Could ye detach it now, Papa Smurf? Oi don't exactly like having a squished worm on my nose." Papa Smurf almost winced at that last part, and looked his son's face over once more.

"Miner… I don't smurf that's something on your nose. I think it IS your nose." Both Dabbler and Miner swung their heads over to him, Miner's jaw on the floor and Dabbler's eyes the size of saucers. "Watch. Miner, please try to move your nose." Miner did so, the pink wiggling substance on his face scrunching up accordingly. "I was afraid of that."

"B-but how?" Miner was now holding his knees up to his chest, his eyes not once leaving what was apparently his nose. Papa Smurf only sighed in response, still examining it. He froze up suddenly, and then started to pace, muttering wildly under his breath. Miner looked nervously over at Dabbler, who only shrugged back, equally confused. Neither knew what it meant, but it couldn't be anything good. Their father finally stopped pacing and turned to them.

"I know what that is. I'll need Nat to reconfirm my suspicions, though. Sit tight, both of you." Papa Smurf quickly left the mushroom, heading off to find Nat. Dabbler looked at Miner questioningly, and Miner only shrugged back. They both stayed quiet for a moment, looking at anywhere but each other. Dabbler and Miner rarely talked to each other normally, mostly because of where Miner almost always was and how healthy he stayed.

"Why do ye think he needs Nat to look at this? He's only a Smurfling." Miner asked, the question hanging in the air. Dabbler bit his lip and continued to look away, but the silence seemed to get to him.

"Miner, seeing as how even Papa Smurf isn't positive, I can't really smurf you anything and be sure it's the truth. I can give you a tip though: Pray that I'm wrong. PLEASE." Okay, this was bad. The door opened as Papa Smurf entered with Nat. The Smurfling jumped up in the air after glancing at Miner's face, his mouth moving but no words coming out. Nat cautiously walked over, in what seemed to be shock, and cautiously pushed Miner's "nose". Miner reacted accordingly immediately straightening up and yelping in pain. Dabbler winced and closed his eyes, muttering something under his breath. Nat blinked, dazed, and turned to Papa Smurf. The red-clad elder only nodded, and Nat proceeded to faint, collapsing onto the floor in a jumbled heap.

"Miner, I'm afraid I have some bad news." Miner gulped, worried. What had happened to him? "Miner, the nose you have right now is a mole's nose. Although, not one from around here or one that I've ever seen, which is why I wasn't able to smurf you an answer without confirmation." Miner didn't hear anything past the "mole's nose" part however, as he too collapsed into a dead faint.

* * *

The slightly-over-a-hundred Smurfs that inhabited the Smurf Village crowded round the large Mushroom their leader used as a pedestal for announcements. Rumors were running rampant as to the cause of the meeting, but there wasn't much anybody really knew. Vanity had seen Miner run by earlier, but he didn't really see or hear anything. This did not stop any of the speculation going around, and soon everybody had heard at least a dozen different theories. However, before anymore could be spread, Papa Smurf stepped up, and everyone quickly quieted down. No one, save three worried Smurflings, noticed a shaky pale Nat slink into the crowd. He was quickly mobbed by his three best friends.

"Some of you may have seen Miner rush into the village earlier, and the cause of that is also the topic of this meeting." The whispers and mutters came back full force. Their leader raised a hand and they all became quiet once more. "This was because of a… mutation, and it is possible that it's contagious." This time the crowd seemed about ready to stampede, shouting and hollering up a storm. It took much longer than last time, but Papa Smurf managed to quiet everyone without losing his temper. "One of the reasons I'm telling you is because I don't want anyone disturbing Miner, and I would also like for everyone to take the necessary precautions, just in case." He stepped off the mushroom and tried to walk back to his hut, but was detained by numerous Smurfs who had many, many questions. The top four questioners were Vanity, Nosey, Reporter, and Smurfette. The others only asked one or two questions, but those four seemed to have millions.

"Papa Smurf, what exactly is this "mutation", and how exactly could it be contagious?"

"Did he catch it from someone else? Was it a spell? Does that mean the metals he mined are also contagious? What can we do? How do we do it?"

"Is Miner alright Papa Smurf?"

"Just _thinking_ about getting ill is ruining my fabulous complexion. It wouldn't dare mutate me, would it?"

"I'm not allowed to say, most likely direct contact, no, no, possibly, just be careful, pay attention to your surroundings, he seems to be, and I'm afraid it would." Papa Smurf tried to wade his way through the jumbled rush of inquiries, and had backed up to his mushroom by the end. The leader quickly shut the door behind him, locking it. He rubbed his tired eyes and looked over to where Dabbler was. The doctor was sitting right beside Miner, the latter still unconscious.

"Why'd you tell them that? We both know that whatever it is that changed Miner, it isn't contagious. Otherwise, the whole village would have caught it by now." Dabbler's eyes never left the ground, but Papa Smurf could practically feel the raw emotion behind the words.

"It could still be contagious, and because of that, you should really stay away from Miner. You don't want to smurf what he's got, do you?" Dabbler's head snapped up, his eyes narrowed.

"You're one to talk. Pardon me, but you've had more contact with him than I have, and yet you just went out in front of everyone. IF it IS contagious, then everyone will have caught it. It isn't anyway. We know some creature caused it." Papa Smurf just shook his head. Children could be so stubborn.

"Like you said, it probably isn't airborne. One can catch diseases from creatures as well, which is probably what happened to Miner. You and I seem to have been rather lucky having not caught whatever it is he's got. I don't want you to smurf your luck, and I wish for the both of us to remain safe. It's not like I'm abandoning Miner, I just have to quarantine him for everyone's, including his, safety. You're also at risk Dabbler, and I don't want to smurf you get ill either." His child only sighed in response. After a minute, Dabbler got off the examination table and walked towards the door the expression on his face grim.

"Fine. Good luck with the quarantine. Remember how the quarantine of Hefty with his Yellow Hate Disease went? I can only hope the same doesn't happen this time." Dabbler opened the door and quietly shut it behind him, a flood of sound and noise filling the room as he left. It only returned to its muffled state when the door finally closed with a loud click.

Outside Dabbler had to run from what was nearly a mob of Smurfs, all asking questions.

"Dabbler, what's smurfing on?"

"Is this disease serious?"

"Did Gargamel cause this?"

"Was it Balthazar or a different enemy of ours?"

"Where's Miner being quarantined?"

"Are you currently carrying the same disease?"

"What's Papa Smurf smurfing about this?"

"Will Miner recover?"

"What if it's already too late?"

"What CAN be done about thi-" Dabbler ran into the infirmary and shut the door behind him. He glanced around the room for a second, and then quickly covered the windows and barricaded the door. Letting out a sigh of relief, Dabbler placed his head against the door. However, he nearly jumped into the roof when someone suddenly sneezed behind him. He span around to see Sickly there, sitting on one of the examination beds.

"Sickly, what on earth are you doing here?" Dabbler sounded irritated, but he had a rather concerned look on his face as he asked. His sibling simply sneezed in response, the Smurf looking flushed and drowsy.

"I figured you better quar-quaren-qua-ACHOO! Quarantine me as well. I always get sick first, and if this thing is cont-contagi-cont-ACHOO! Contagious, then I've probably got it. I smurf really under the wea-under the weath-under the-ACHOO! Sick." Sickly sniffed and clutched his arms, swaying slightly.

"Sickly I'm sure you're fine. Well, I mean, your obviously NOT, but I don't think you've got what Miner's got. Either way, you better lay down." Dabbler shuffled through a basket he had near the table, and pulled out a ratty-looking blanket. He winced at its condition, but handed it over to Sickly. The sick Smurf quickly wrapped the cloth around him, his eyes becoming unfocused. It wasn't two seconds later when he fell over onto his side, his body shaking. Dabbler jumped again at the sudden action, and then rushed to put his hand on Sickly's head. It was WAY too hot, for one thing, and Sickly seemed clammy and in pain. One second later he had his brother in his arms, takin him to a far more comfortable bed. Sickly couldn't be taken to his house, not with the mob still out there. The sight of Sickly would cause a mass panic, and would probably end with more than a few Smurfs getting hurt. Good thing Dabbler had practically moved into the infirmary. This meant that in a corner, far away from any windows or the door, was his bed. For the moment, it was going to be Sickly's.

The sick Smurf seemed to subconsciously burrow into the blankets. The atmosphere seemed almost calmer as Sickly snoozed on, his shaking and shivering slightly diminished. Such an atmosphere was shattered by the sudden loud banging from all sides of the mushroom, mostly at the door and windows. Sickly tossed and moaned in his sleep, and Dabbler's temper had reached its limit. He removed the items piled behind the door and rushed through, yelling angrily.

"Will you all go away?! I have a sick Smurf here, and I don't need your constant questions and comments to smurf them any sicker!" It was only after his rant finished did Dabbler realize what he had just revealed. The number of Smurfs seemed to grow by the second, all of them seeming much more curious and angry than before. Each called for quarantining Dabbler and his mystery patient, and they all questioned about whether the sick Smurf was Miner or not. No one had forgotten a similar incident and, no matter how long ago it had been, refused to see a Purple Smurf repeat.

"The infirmary's infected too! We have to sanitize it!" Dabbler immediately knew what they meant by that. If you wanted to sanitize something that had been infected or in contact with disease, you burned it. They were going to burn the infirmary! Many rushed to take lanterns from their homes, none listening to Dabbler's pleas. In less than a minute, the mushroom was surrounded by 20-something Smurfs that had lanterns at the ready. Dabbler stood in the doorway shocked at his brothers. He realized, in horror, that they viewed him and Sickly as infected as well. They wouldn't… They couldn't! Was no one thinking?! Where was Papa Smurf? Why wasn't he doing anything?!

* * *

Far away from the village, and even farther away from the humans, was a set of caves that had once been inhabited by an Imp named Hotap. Papa Smurf, wearing a mask, gloves, and surrounded by a weak protective magical shield, carried Miner deeper into one of these caves. The magic it took to create even the weak shield was physically painful and quite a strain to create, but it did the job. Even with Miner's head lying on his father's chest, the magic was able to stop and deflect any germs or viruses. He dropped his son gently on the hard floor, gasping slightly. Papa Smurf wasn't as young or strong as he used to be, that was for sure. He would have to be strong for this, though. This wasn't like the last time he had to quarantine someone, but last time Hefty hadn't cared because he couldn't. Miner would care, and that would make this much harder. Miner started to stir, moving and groaning slowly. When his eyes opened, however, he seemed to know where he was and reacted almost violently. Miner jumped up and looked around feverishly, his eyes finally falling on Papa Smurf.

"Why're we here? The last thing I remember was…" Miner's eyes darted to his nose, the very sight making his eyes widen. "Smurfin' Begorrà."

"Miner, we're here because of that. You could be contagious, and as much as it smurfs me, I have to quarantine you." Miner looked panicked, shaking slightly. His eyes were still wide and they showed the confusion and hurt he felt.

"What?! But... It was some creature that smurfed this, not some disease. Ye know that!" Miner seemed ready to bolt for the hills.

"Miner, calm down. You could have caught a disease from the creature and that's what caused this, and even if it's not a disease, it could still be contagious. I don't want you to cause harm to the others or yourself, no matter how unintentional. What if the Smurflings caught it? Or Baby? Would you be able to smurf with yourself Miner? I have to do everything I can to make sure we are all safe, even if it means quarantining you." Papa Smurf hugged his son, his eyes watering slightly. "I don't want to smurf this, but I don't want to see any harm come to you or the others more." Miner felt numb all over. This was a nightmare. It had to be. He nodded his head anyway, satisfying Papa Smurf. Unfortunately, Miner knew by the pain he felt when his father left that this was in fact very real. As well as incredibly terrifying and mind-numbing.

* * *

Back in a much more cheerful and pleasant part of the forest was a group of Smurfs on a nature hike. The sun was almost done setting, encasing the forest in orange and red-ish light. There were more Smurfs on this nature hike than normal, and the reason for that was because this time the nature hike had at one point gone near King Gerard's palace, and that meant seeing the boy-king as well as Clockwork and Clockwork Smurfette. Nanny and Grandpa would have gone anyway, as would Tracker, but the chance to see Clockwork again was what convinced Handy to go along, and he convinced Hefty as well. Nat and Papa Smurf had started off with them, but Dabbler had come early on and gotten Papa Smurf, who later retrieved Nat. Why those two were needed was unknown, but everyone more or less shrugged it off. Clockwork and Clockwork Smurfette had been more than happy to see their creator again, and had even joined their friends on the trek back to the village. They were going to stay for only a few days, but they were over the moon about it, as was Handy. He spent the rest of the trip back conversing excitedly with his two "children", as they were. The other Smurfs could only hear Handy's side of the conversation, but it sounded like they were having fun.

"It makes you wonder what they're actually smurfing about, doesn't it?" Hefty said to the other Smurfs, a good distance away from the inventor.

"It certainly does, young 'un, it certainly does." Grandpa Smurf chuckled as he watched his grandson talk to his inventions. Tracker smiled, but stopped dead in his tracks not a minute later. He sniffed the air once. Twice.

"Say, do you smell that?" Everyone either shook their heads or tried to sniff and then shook their heads. "It smells like… smoke. Yes, I'm quite sure that's smoke. It smurfs to be coming from-" He stopped short to hack. "Sorry, that would be a whiff of Sloppy's house. Which means that the smoke is coming from the village!"

Well, if _that_ didn't get everybody's instant and undivided attention. Quite a few of them remembered the time Snappy sent fire to the forest, and that had been very unpleasant. There was a very big chance however that there was just another bonfire being held in the village. Maybe something that was worth celebrating had occurred? Unfortunately, that was unlikely. Highly unlikely. There was a much higher chance that one of their enemies had somehow attacked the village and set it aflame.

Hefty was the first to dart towards the village, followed by Tracker, Handy, the Clockworks, and then by Grandpa and Nanny. It became quite clear as they got closer that this was NO celebration. Yelling could be heard amongst the crackling flames. When they got into view, however, it was clear that this wasn't the cause of one of their many foes. No, there were numerous Smurfs taking the fire from lanterns and then using it to burn the infirmary! A number were busy arguing with the head of the Smurf fire brigade, and more than a couple were detaining a flailing and hollering Dabbler.

"He just has a fever! A _fever_, smurf it! No, Sickly's in there! _Stop_! Listen to me!" A rather large crowd had gathered nearby, but none seemed to be doing anything. Grandpa and Nanny looked at each other, each shocked and worried. What could they do without being stopped or held back? Clockwork Smurf had a protective arm in front of his companion, scared for her safety in the face of a fire so large and hot. Clockwork Smurfette seemed equally afraid of the flames, if not a bit miffed at Clockwork's possessive attitude. Handy and Tracker were both actively holding Hefty back, trying to keep him from rushing in. Before anyone could act, their leaders voice practically echoed through the village, his voice taking on a thunderous tone.

"What is smurfing on here?!" To say that the culprits were terrified was an understatement. The few that were detaining Dabbler promptly unhanded him and more or less ran for it, and the others quickly dispersed. The fire brigade quickly got water onto the mushroom, Dabbler being the first to rush in despite the smoke and the steam. He searched the area franticly, not able to see much with all the ash in the air. Hearing Sickly's weak coughs and hacking helped, but he still felt it took far too long when he finally did find his sick brother. Some Smurf was definitely going to get it, that was for sure. Dabbler managed to carry Sickly's body out, but almost collapsed once they exited. The smoke and ash was in his eyes, in his nose, in his throat… It felt like it was everywhere, and it burned.

The little nature hiking group had rushed forward with the crowd, each horrified and outraged. Hefty quickly took Sickly from Dabbler's arms and leaned him up against a nearby mushroom. He also gave him a few good smacks on the back to help get the smoke out. Papa Smurf glared at the perpetrators, easily spotting them in the crowd from the soot on their clothes and the sheepish expressions on their faces.

"Well?!" No one answered. After a moment or two, Dabbler staggered forward, leaning up against some non-burnt remains of the infirmary.

"Everyone kept coming to me with more and more questions, and their constant interruptions kept me from properly helping Sickly. I snapped at them to be quiet because of the sick Smurf in the infirmary, and they took that to mean that I was keeping Miner quarantined in there or someone else who was infected. They wanted to 'sanitize' the infirmary, as well as me and Sickly." He kept an icy gaze on the guilty, although the severity of his anger was blunted by the wincing he did due to the ash. Papa Smurf's gaze turned murderous. He put out a hand and pointed to the ground right in front of him. All of the involved Smurfs came forward, albeit reluctantly. Their leader glared at each and every one of them, finally coming back around to the beginning of the line. The two Smurfs he saw there he never would have suspected in a million years, although before he wouldn't have suspected the others either. Willpower and Pushover stood at the beginning, each looking at the ground and scuffing their feet like the others.

"Pushover?! Willpower?! Do you two have any explanation? Or did you decide to turn your smurfs off in order to act like humans?" Pushover just muttered something, but Willpower looked Papa Smurf in the eye. He looked regretful and embarrassed, but that wouldn't fix anything.

"Well, e-earlier you made it sound like whatever it is Miner's got was a-another disease, a-and the last mutating one that warranted quarantining was the Purple Smurf Disease. Ev-everyone was worried that this was going to be a repeat. None of us were thi-thinking, and I'm s-sorry I did anything at all." The others in the line nodded guiltily, muttering apologies. Papa Smurf sighed. He supposed that this was, in part, his own fault. He should have clarified more instead of leaving them in the dark. He turned his eyes onto the crowd that stood before him.

"Ever get the feeling that you're missing something?" Handy whispered to Hefty and Tracker, all of to whom this was making very little sense.

"What about the rest of you?" Multiple Smurfs' eyes locked onto his. "What these Smurfs did was wrong, but just smurfing aside and letting these things go on is just as bad, if not worse."

Many comments and excuses rippled through the large group. One's that ranged from "I hate not doing anything!" to "And risk getting burned alive by these crazies?" showed how varied the understanding of his statement was.

"Those of you who caused this, know that I'm very disappointed in you. You will all help Farmer tend to the fields for four months straight." Cries of dismay rose at the punishment. "For those of you who smurfed nothing, remember what your indifference almost caused. That should be punishment enough. Everyone, we'll deal with this in greater detail tomorrow. Until then, get some sleep."

The mention of sleep was enough to send many running for their beds. The moon had already risen overhead and the forest was now dark in the night.

As everyone quickly fell asleep, red eyes moved through the village undetected. Several houses were entered and more than one Smurf was glared at. The red eyes slipped away as the golden morning sun rose over the leafy tree tops, a peaceful village soon to be encompassed in panic.

* * *

Sunlight poured in a certain inventor's window. Handy yawned as he woke up, still bone tired from the other night. Despite needing to sleep, he had spent several more hours just talking with the Clockworks. They were currently sleeping in the workshop, insistent to let their creator have his house to himself. He chuckled as he thought of the many things they had conversed about last night. He told him of many invention plans and possible upgrades that they may find handy, and they in turn told him about inventions they had seen pass through the kingdom. He told them about some of the wacky adventures the village had gone through, and they told him of daily life at the castle.

As Handy stretched, he realized that he had yet to tell them about Marina, or Maria about them. A dozen different scenarios and possibilities ran through his mind. Would she reject them or despise them? Would they hate or fear her? Would Marina see them as abominations and him as a madsmurf? Would they think he had lost his mind and view her as an overgrown fish? None of these possibilities were very nice to think of. He'd ask Hefty and a few other Smurfs about what to do later.

Groaning, Handy walked over to a bucket of water and a mirror, and he proceeded to wash his face. Man, did he ache! Mid-wash however, he noticed something and quickly stopped. He looked at the small mirror on the wall and down at his hands, and then looked back up at the mirror and down at his hands again, and repeated this step several times. Finally, he raised a shaky hand to his face.

Handy's scream was not the only one that smashed the serenity that had calmly enveloped the village.


	2. Chapter 2

Hefty Smurf hurried through the village, his hat pulled tightly down below his ears. To any onlookers, he seemed upset, probably because of one of Jokey's pranks. Due to this, no one bothered him, instead spending their time searching for the causes of the numerous screams that had rung out earlier from various locations across the village. Hefty rapidly knocked on his best friend's door, somewhat frantically. His head hurt and his ears ached. He only hoped Handy was okay, but he had a feeling he was wrong.

"Who is it?" Surprisingly, it was Papa Smurf who called from inside. Perfect. Hefty supposed he'd might as well kill two birds with one smurf.

"Papa Smurf, it's me. Would you smurf me in?" Hefty tried to sound nonchalant, but the words came off as about as nervous and worried as he felt. A few seconds later the door opened, allowing Hefty into the mushroom. Papa Smurf looked at Hefty curiously, his brow knit in worry. Perhaps Harmony had gone by earlier? Papa Smurf could think of no other reason for his child to be covering his ears like that.

"Alright Hefty, how can I help you?" His father asked, stretching slightly. Hefty shifted slightly, not quite looking the leader in the eyes.

"I came to check on how Handy was doing. I wasn't able to understand much this morning, but I know he was one of the Smurfs that screamed." Papa Smurf froze slightly, now not looking at Hefty. He opened the door again and gestured for Hefty to leave.

"Handy's fine he's just caught the fever that Sickly had. Trust me, nothing but a nightmare. He should be fine, nothing to worry about." Hefty looked startled by the sudden change in demeanor. He stood away from the door, outside once more. Before Papa Smurf could close the door, Hefty stuck his foot between it and the frame.

"Are you sure he's got what Sickly's got? And that it was just a nightmare?" Papa Smurf gave his son a smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Oh yes, I'm quite sure he and Sickly have the same thing, and believe me, it was just a nightmare." He frowned for half a second. "An absolute nightmare." Despite muttering the last part, Hefty heard him.

"I, well, I, uh, had, something to ask you about anyway, Papa Smurf." Hefty stammered out, uncharacteristically nervous. He unconsciously backed away slightly, removing his foot from its spot between the door and the frame.

"Oh? What's that, Hefty?" Papa Smurf asked, now standing in the doorway. What could possible make the usually confident Smurf act so jumpy?

"It's about that disease that everyone's been talking about. The one that, uh, mutates people." Papa Smurf sighed and his head slumped slightly. Of course that's what the question would be about. He had been questioned about the disease almost constantly since the minute he revealed Miner had it.

"Yes, what about it?" Hefty hesitated for a second, looking away from Papa Smurf.

"Well, er, would it turn Smurfs into animals? Or at least parts of them?" Papa Smurf's head snapped back up and he locked eyes with the strong Smurf. The leader thought about his limited options. How could he answer that? How had Hefty known?

"That's right. How did you know that, Hefty?" Papa Smurf stepped back. Hefty took advantage and entered the mushroom, closing the door behind him. He also immediately took his hat off after doing do, revealing two long black furry ears on his head instead of the usual Smurf ones on the side. It made for quite a sight.

"I was kind of hoping you had the antidote."

* * *

"Oh my darlin, oh my d-darlin, oh m-my d-darlin S-Smurfette." Nope. He couldn't do it. Forget trying to mine to take his mind off of things. Miner Smurf couldn't stand it. Sure it was fine when he was normally working, knowing somebody would come by once in a while or that he would go enjoy dinner with his family. He tried keeping that mindset here but it didn't work for long. No one would dare go by this place, and he really doubted that a cure or solution had been found so soon.

He had hope, of course, but even a Smurf couldn't hold onto hope without any assurances or ups to counter the downs. The rocks in these caves were basically packed mud, nothing like the harder areas Miner so adored. Sure, dirt was fine, but even after almost a hundred years, the place still retained the dark and imposing atmosphere that its previous inhabitants were well known for.

From here, Miner could see the village. Last night there had been an orange glow emanating from what was probably a celebration bonfire. Earlier this morning he could hear screaming as well, but everything seemed smurfy now. Jokey had probably just done something again that had gotten someone riled up, and they'd probably settled everything now.

Miner glared at the culprit for his total isolation. This actually wouldn't be all too bad as it was if it weren't for the fact he was slowly becoming a rodent. There was a small bit of fur around the pink wriggling nose, all of it black. He still had trouble making the connection that it was in fact his nose and not some trick that was stuck there.

"Would ya like some company, or is this here a one-Smurf pity party?" Miner jumped and turned around at the familiar voice. He saw Wooly and heard Wooly, but his mind was having trouble making the connection. Wasn't Miner currently being quarantined? Before he could even try to speak, Wooly was joined by two more Smurfs.

"'Course he wants some company! I didn't just stop smurfing and planting trees for him to turn us back." Timber was also there, yawning and stretching. Tracker stood behind them, half-heartedly smiling and waving. Wooly turned to the Smurf with the feathered cap and gave a nice smile.

"Thanks for taking us here, Tracker." Tracker only nodded, his smile becoming thinner. "Yes, ya can bolt back to the village now." Tracker took off as soon as the words left Wooly's mouth. "Just don't tell anybody anythang!" Miner raised an eyebrow at his two brothers. "Sorry 'bout that."

"Word's going 'round back at the village that what you've got is contagious. Tracker didn't really want to risk it, but a few choice words from Wooly got him to guide us here." Timber explained.

"Really?" Miner asked, a smile easily making its way onto his face. Wooly shrugged, not looking too concerned.

"Let's jest say he owed me a favor." Miner looked at Timber, but the woodssmurf simply gave him a confused shrug. "Anyhow, we figured ya must be getting pretty lonely, or at least bored. That doesn't really smurf like a lot a fun." Wooly explained, gesturing to Miner's nose. Miner again gave him another look. "We also may have overheard Nat explaining it to the other Smurflings."

"What was Timber even doin in the village?" Miner asked, glad he had someone to talk to again. Having all these questions building up with no answers was yet another part of being alone constantly that was really annoying.

"Papa Smurfs sent out a few Smurfs, like Wild or Tracker, to go find the Smurfs that live outside the village, like Timber, and bring 'em back. All that anyone really smurfs is that some creature caused this, it's highly contagious, and that we should all stay in the village because of the whole safety in numbers thing." Miner nodded. That made sense, better to make everyone safe than leave them to the mercy of the beast. "The only Smurf they didn't bring back was Marco, and that's 'cause he's on the other side of the world right now.

Except... One thing didn't add up.

"Wait, last I heard, Papa Smurf only _thought _it was contagious. Why's he so sure now? And if he told you stay put, why are ye here instead of there?" At the last part, Wooly burst out laughing.

"I'm not exactly a by-the-book without questions rules follower, that's more Brainy's thing, and I sure as heck wasn't just gonna leave ya alone to stew. It aint good for anything, just makes people bitter. As for how he knows it's contagious, well, Dabbler caught it." Had Miner been drinking anything, he would have done a spit-take. As it was, he simply did a double-take. "Yeah, and apparently Sickly, Hefty, and Handy have all also caught it. Sickly cause he was, well, sick and being taken care of by Dabbler, and Dabbler got it because he was around ya. Hefty got it because he helped Sickly after he and Dabbler had escaped being burned alive."

At this point Miner didn't think he would be able to reattach his jaw if he wanted to.

"Now, mind ya, anything we heard about them almost being roasted was all second hand, but smurf did it ever sound excitin. Hefty's always hanging around Handy, no surprise there, and that's basically how everyone knows it's contagious. There's also this theory going around about it being connected to the fever Sickly smurfed, but it's mighty ridiculous. All in all, everybody wants nothing to do with it. Well, maybe except us. Willing to risk it if it means givin you some company, ya understand." Wooly chose then to reveal the two sleeping bags he'd carried in the pack on his back. He also brought out some matches and firewood.

* * *

Handy was currently curled up in a ball under his bed covers. He could hear the Clockworks trying to calm him down and Papa Smurf assuring him, but he didn't really register it. He kept replaying the image of his face in the mirror, and his hands. Oh Smurf, his hands! He was becoming something against his will and nature, turning into a monstrous beast. What a nightmare seeing the changes had been. He never, not in a million years, wanted to see them again. He could even feel the change to his hands, becoming a constant reminder that something was very wrong.

Handy was becoming a horrid creature, something everyone feared and despised. It would change him mentally too, he just knew it. What would the others think? How long would it be until he was roasted alive like his two brothers almost had? The Clockworks, no matter how much they cared for him, would be frightened at the very least, and then probably reject him. They would, wouldn't they? Handy didn't want to lose his two children, but it now seemed inevitable!

Marina would never look at him again. She would probably marry some Merman prince and she'd never think about Handy once, except to laugh at the foolish mistake she had almost made. No one would want to ever use an invention Handy Smurf had been a part of. He could hear the tales already of the crazy inventor Smurf who went off the deep end after a virus took hold of his mind. Maybe they wouldn't roast him alive; maybe they'd chop off his head or poison him, or maybe even just leave to the mercy of the wilderness. His best friend, Hefty, wouldn't care what happened to such an abomination. Hefty wouldn't even consider them family, much less best friends.

Or worse… They would let him stay and he would end up turning against them, harming them or giving them up to one of their many enemies. Would Handy turn evil, or just not care? Smurf, what if he couldn't bring himself to even care about his own family? That would be awful, the worst! He would probably also lose his ability to think up and create inventions, he probably wouldn't even be able to fix them. He could also see that horrifying scenario, trying to fix something and just making it worse in the end. What if-

Someone knocked at the door, and Papa Smurf left him to go answer it. Handy flinched at the familiar voice and tried burrowing deeper in the covers. He certainly didn't want his best friend to see him like this! Unfortunately for him, two Smurfs walked until they were right next to the bed, and Handy could already tell one of them was Hefty. No other Smurf had such a clumpy and confident walk.

"Hey pal, how's it going?" Hefty asked, trying to prod his best friend out from underneath the covers.

"Smurfy." Handy grumbled, panicking slightly. What was Papa Smurf doing letting Hefty in? Wasn't Handy contagious? He certainly didn't want Hefty smurfing this disease.

"That's good." There was an uncomfortable silence. "Figured I should apologize for giving you this, whatever it is." That got Handy's attention. Forgetting trying to keep his family from seeing him, he poked his head out.

"What?" His eyes were immediately drawn to the long ears on Hefty's head, his Smurf hat taken off. Despite himself, his mouth quirked upward a bit, but he didn't laugh or chuckle. He knew how that felt, alright, and he didn't want to laugh at his best friend. Handy realized they were staring back, staring at him. Registering what he'd just done, Handy cringed and put his head back under his sheets.

Hefty was trying to understand what he'd just seen. Handy's eyes hadn't been the usual Smurfy blue he'd used to have. Nope, they were dark, a brown as mud color. Handy had had freckles on his face when he poked his head up, but he'd never had freckles before in his life. His skin was also a shade or two lighter. Hefty and Papa Smurf looked at each other, then at Handy's form in his bed, then back at each other, and then back at Handy.

"Handy, is that why you're hiding?" Papa Smurf asked, worried. Handy nodded from underneath the covers, the motion visible. "You need to come out. I need to find out everything I can about this disease, and your cooperation could help with finding a cure or solution."

Handy thought about it for a minute and reluctantly got out, only to be tackled into a group hug by the Clockworks. He laughed at their enthusiasm and returned the double hug eagerly. Hefty quickly went over and also joined the hug, giving Handy a friendly noogie as well.

Meanwhile, Papa Smurf was observing every detail he could. Every tiny thing was important, even if it didn't seem it at first. What animal could Handy be turning into? The question was answered quickly as Papa Smurf saw Handy's hands. He rubbed his eyes feverishly and then rechecked. _1-2-3-4-5! _Yes, there were indeed 5 fingers on each hand instead of the four fingered hands all Smurfs had. All of a sudden the puzzle pieces snapped into place and the animal Handy was turning into wasn't such a mystery.

* * *

The village was in uproar. More Smurfs had been infected and many were becoming paranoid. Hefty, Handy, Dabbler, and Sickly had all been quarantined. They were being kept in their own houses so that Papa Smurf could hopefully study the side effects and progression and use the data to find a cure. As far as the rest of the village knew, however, they had been sent out and quarantined separately. This did not stop a number of Smurfs from poking around to try and smurf clues. A meeting was even being held among a number of Smurfs to help figure things out. This meeting went on without Papa Smurf's knowledge, if only because everysmurf agreed he was hiding something. Whether this was for a good reason or not was yet to be decided. After dinner, many spread the word to certain Smurfs about the meeting. These Smurfs were chosen carefully, so no one would go and blab about it to somesmurf they shouldn't.

The meeting was being held in the mess hall. With Papa Smurf so busy trying to find a cure, he wouldn't notice, and those kept out of the meeting thought it was simply just Reporter and a few others asking various Smurfs what they knew. This was not the case.

Reporter may have been interrogating Smurfs, but that wasn't all. Various theories were being created and debated and decimated in a matter of minutes, but what really had most Smurfs attending on the edges of their seats was the end. Nosey was going to reveal the location of the disease's first victim: Miner Smurf. They were gonna grill him. Not literally of course, they'd learned from last night's little accident, but once that location was released, every Smurf who could was going to go there to observe the changes. From a good distance away, if only because no one wanted to risk the chance of getting infected via direct contact or deal with a possibly deranged mutated Miner. Reporter even had plans for using this information to blackmail Papa Smurf into revealing more. Perhaps it would be cruel, but news was news. And this had to be the biggest case he'd seen yet! Even when he'd promised to tell them more, Papa Smurf had been too tight-lipped with the information for Reporter's, and his reader's, likings. Anyway, information was important. Reporter knew his information.

Fact 1: Miner was infected with the disease after coming into contact with a wild animal. Fact 2: The disease mutated body parts, although how or to what extent was unknown. Fact 3: Only Papa Smurf, Dabbler, and Miner were present when the disease's first case was diagnosed, and none of them were smurfy sources of information or accessible at the moment. Fact 4: Cases so far had apparently shown no changes to any infected person's mentality or to their speech. Fact 5: It was clear that this wasn't like the Purple Smurf Disease, and everyone was incredibly grateful. Fact 6: Several Smurfs had screamed that morning for unknown reasons. Fact 7: The Smurfs identities were unknown as well, but it was rumored that they could have been the four infected Smurfs, who were only discovered to have been infected that same morning. Fact 8: Papa Smurf claimed it was nothing, but then had locked himself in his study and worked constantly to cure it, refusing to answer most questions with a straight answer.

No one knew what to smurf of this, although popular theories that may or may not have been correct were: That it was spread through bacteria, the animal that had caused all this was not the only animal in the world that had the disease, but perhaps it was the only one in their area, and that the disease was very rare and rather unknown. Even Grandpa Smurf had no tales to tell about such a sickness. He hadn't been invited for fear he'd tell Papa Smurf about their plans, but when the news first surfaced he had been asked countless times if he'd ever smurfed of it. Why, the first Smurf to ask him had been Papa Smurf!

On the other side of the spectrum, certain Smurfs attending this meeting were "spies", more or less. Brainy, for one, wrote down everything that was said. Everyone assumed he was writing down the details for a book, and trusted he had too big an ego about his (nonexistent) abilities to figure things out on his own to care about telling Papa Smurf. They were wrong. As soon as the meeting was over, Brainy decided that he would tell Papa Smurf everything he could and then smurf aside to watch as these rule breakers were punished.

Speaking of punished, all of the Smurfs that had been involved in last night's fiasco had been banned from the meeting on principle, although Farmer himself had decided to attend the meeting. The crops had more than enough people taking care of them, and he currently had Gourdy keeping an eye on the Smurfs as backup. Farmer himself didn't approve of the plans and schemes made, and also made a side note to tell somebody else later before things got out of hand.

Greedy was also there, what with it being his mess hall and all. He'd already warned a bunch of Smurfs to steer clear because Reporter was holding it, but not many listened. At first, he didn't see any reason to tell Papa Smurf, but now he saw even less reason to just let these Smurfs go out and possibly get attacked or infected because of their curiosity.

Smurfette was there, chatting with Vanity when she wasn't announcing the information she'd gathered. There weren't many things that a Smurf would deny her, and almost all the ones she'd questioned had been very eager to give out every little detail, which actually helped a lot. She did have to remind herself multiple times not to go out and try to find the quarantined Smurfs. That hadn't worked well before, and she doubted it would now.

Tracker was there, listening but not really saying anything. He had bluffed his way out of taking Smurfs to Miner numerous times, if only because this disease terrified him. He saw what it did to Miner, and wanted nothing more than to never catch it. The very idea of catching it made him shudder. Animals were fine beings, but he certainly wouldn't want to be anything other than a Smurf. What if it affected his sense of smell? Why, he wouldn't be Tracker if he lost that.

Grouchy was there, but didn't really comment on anything save for a few "I hate" comments. He would leave the meeting not caring, just as he had when he got here. His only concern was that the disease could infect Baby Smurf, but he trusted Papa Smurf to know what he was doing. Even if this backfired on them, which it most likely would, he knew that in the end they would somehow come out on top. That was just how it always worked.

Clumsy hadn't been invited due to his inability to keep a secret, and no one doubted that he would end up telling someone something he shouldn't, even if Clumsy didn't mean to. The rock lover was currently out and about, walking and talking with Grandpa, Nanny, and Smoogle. The former two were taking care of Baby, while Smoogle was reportedly entertaining him. Clumsy didn't seem to mind not being invited, if only because he thought it was just an interrogation. The only part that seemed to bother him, actually, was not being able to be with Brainy.

Wooly and Timber were missing, but no one really paid any attention. Some were slightly alarmed that the two Smurfs were nowhere to be found, but shrugged it off as they were probably just walking through the woods, somewhere within the village boundaries. Those that bothered noticing agreed that they were probably bored and missing out on all of the excitement. Oh well, their loss.

Wild was also missing from the meeting, but everyone knew what he was doing. Wild was currently checking to see if any of the forest animals had noticed anything, but so far he hadn't come back with any positive results. So, it was a forest animal that was incredibly hard to detect, sneaky, and a loner to boot.

The Smurflings were all listening in from outside, and it was only their desire to hear about where Miner was being kept that stopped them from telling Nanny or Grandpa, since Papa Smurf was too busy. Nat had already been interrogated many times, but he hadn't broken down yet. His friends had protected him constantly after a close one earlier though. Nosey could get really annoying really fast if you didn't give him what he wanted or told him what he wanted to know. Nat shuddered once again as he thought about what he saw. His brother's didn't know what they were smurfing into. This was why he hadn't told them, he knew they'd think up something like this. Nat wasn't exactly trusting in capabilities to keep traps shut when it came to the "Gossip Group".

This was a crazy idea, and he was itching to just smurf off and get himself as far away from it as possible. Becoming an animal sounded nice, but the isolation treatment and everyone freaking out over it part did not. Slouchy was neutral about the whole thing, while Sassette and Snappy kept arguing about whether it was "cool" or "unsmurfy". Neither could convince the either, and by the end of their debate, they had forgotten who thought what.

And so, as the meeting concluded with everyone more or less where they had started, numerous Smurfs fled in many varying direction once Nosey revealed where Miner was being quarantined: Hotap's old lair. None of them cared about how dark it was getting in the late evening, only how soon they could arrive. So caught up, were they, that none noticed Greedy, Brainy, and Reporter himself getting trampled and left behind in the rush. They didn't even notice the red glowing eyes watching from the shadows. What many had expected to be a calm day was not, and in fact just the opposite. Chaos. Was it a bad thing that chaos was the usual nowadays?

* * *

Dabbler looked at the_ things_ on his hands and arms, panic rising through him. He was being quarantined in his own house, but he felt as if everything around him was scary and foreign. He wasn't supposed to smurf anything but skin, and he certainly wasn't meant to have scales. They were a dark green color, sticking out against the blue skin he retained. Like clockwork, he could wait just three hours, and a new scale would appear next to the others. It was spreading over him slowly, almost like a virus, a _plague_ wanting to infect all it could.

Papa Smurf had assured him it would be fine, but it didn't seem that way. No, all Dabbler could really comprehend was that he was infected, which meant Sickly was probably infected, and anyone else Dabbler or Sickly had touched, and _he was infected and it was taking over his body_. It stung, and Dabbler couldn't move without being put into pain. He didn't ask for this, but he supposed no one ever asked to be sick.

What should he do? What could he do? Was there anything Dabbler could do that wouldn't infect the others of bring more harm to himself? As he moved slightly and felt the excruciating pain, he quickly decided no. He could do nothing and would do nothing. The very thought that he, a doctor, could smurf nothing in the face of a disease, made him very angry. His scales, and as much as he detested them, they were very much his, turned bright red. Startled, Dabbler eyed them suspiciously as they turned white.

He thought about it for a second, and then thought about being back in the infirmary doing his job. They turned blue. He got an idea, and thought of Smurfette. Soon, the scales turned purple. Dabbler then thought of how he and Sickly were almost burned alive, and the scales turned black. Dabbler tilted his head, ignoring the pain, before taking a deep breath. As he calmed down, they smurfed to an ashen grey color.

He could, depending on his emotions and thoughts, change the scales' color? This… This was so weird.

* * *

At the same time, another quarantined Smurf was dealing with their own animalistic changes. Sickly's sickness was, surprisingly, getting better with each change, no matter how slight. At first Sickly had been hopeful that the fever was just making him hallucinate, but as he got better and talked to Papa Smurf, Sickly quickly realized that this was not the case.

His teeth felt weird and so did his tail, but at least he got off easy. From what he heard about Dabbler, there were definitely some more unpleasant types of mutations he was rather glad he didn't have. Yet, at any rate. Would it stop where it was, or continue on? With their luck, it was probably continue to spread.

Sickly's house had been reinforced with a weak and temporary one-way sound barrier, so that no passing Smurfs could hear him when he sneezed or coughed. It was nice. Calm… Relaxing… Peaceful even… If it wasn't for the fact that Sickly could still hear them. Some of the things they said scared him and kept him from daring to get some sleep, even if it would help. He had been told and could remember tiny fragments of the experience when he had almost been set aflame, and it terrified him.

He wouldn't be getting any peace of mind while things like that kept popping up in his head. The scariest part of all was the red eyes he kept hallucinating he saw in the darkest corner of the room.

* * *

Meanwhile, Papa Smurf worked tirelessly in his lab, looking over the list of details to every case. Tomorrow, Papa Smurf was going to secretly bring Miner back to his own house for safety reasons. Who knew what craziness could be happening out there right now?

Besides, Papa Smurf needed every bit of information he could get his hands on when it came to this virus. It seemed to vary depending on the Smurf, but he had no idea why. Dabbler had had scales running up along the sides of his arms, hands, and fingers, covering it almost like webbing, while Sickly had developed two buck teeth and a fluffy tail in place of his regular front teeth and blue tail. Hefty's ears had changed, and Handy had had the most changes total. Handy's case also progressed the most as well. A few more freckles had shown up, and his skin had turned at least one shade lighter by the end of the day.

That, compared to the tiny bit of fur Hefty grew, the few scales Dabbler developed higher up alongside his arms, and the bit of extra fluff that Sickly had had on his tail, was shockingly quick. The disease had reacted differently to different Smurfs, thus the different animals and different developing times. What was this because of? The weather? The day? The time? Their personalities? Their states of health? If so, why? It was rather frustrating to have all this information but no idea how to use it.

Someone rapidly knocked on the door, snapping Papa Smurf out of his speculations. What was it now? If Reporter wanted more answers, he was going to be sorely disappointed. As he got up and turned towards his locked door, the candle that had been keeping the room alit in the dark suddenly blew out, leaving him with little but the light of the moon… And the red glowing eyes behind him.

_"But before I could do anything, my candle blew out and Oi saw these two red glowing eyes."_ Miner's words from the other day rang through his mind. Papa Smurf gulped, walking hurriedly backwards to the door. THIS was the creature that had started it all. Who knew what it wanted? No, wait…

_"Then whatever they belonged to tackled me."_ It wanted a victim. For whatever reason, Papa Smurf was now that victim. The best lunged at him as he fumbled with the door, knocking him to the ground before he could unlock it. He heard one of his little Smurfs calling from behind the door, but he could not make out their voice. The beast lunged again, the red eyes revealing nothing but pure _power_. The door banged slightly again, but neither paid it any attention. The banging continued rapidly, until it stopped. By that point, the creature was on top of him.

Suddenly, the door swung open, barely missing Papa Smurf, but successfully hitting the creature and knocking the monster off. Before it could be seen in the sudden candle light, the red eyes and the beast vanished, leaving a disheveled Papa Smurf and a large mess behind. Papa Smurf wearily got up and turned around to see Farmer there, holding a slightly dented hoe and a lit candle.

"Ah had some news I figured ya might want to hear, but 'pparently you got your own troubles." Farmer set aside the tool and candle to help his father steady himself. "What was that thing?"

"That, Farmer, was the creature that infected Miner." Papa Smurf said, eyeing the floor not a minute ago he had been flung to. "It seems there's more to this than meets the eye."

"Typical. Just when you think you got something figured out, it changes on ya." Farmer picked up the tool and candle, walking out the door with his leader. "By the way, I meant what I said. Bad news has been brewing, but right now it's in full swing."

They continued to talk as they left the house, both failing to notice the glowing red eyes that came out from seemingly nowhere as the light left. The red eyes left the building once everything became dark and silent once more, and moved towards a certain mess hall. The red eyes fell on three unconscious Smurfs that were on the ground, and lunged.

Multiple screams once more echoed through the village.


	3. Chapter 3

"…And that's what happened, Papa Smurf." Farmer finished explaining, the two now a good distance away from the village. Papa Smurf hummed in thought, not liking what he was hearing at all.

"Thank you for telling me Farmer. At first, they took this disease far too seriously, but now they aren't smurfing it seriously enough!" If it wasn't one thing around here, it was another.

"They're only curious." Farmer pointed out. He too wondered multiple times about the disease, but he had never thought to smurf something as stupid as this. "Besides, the real danger's in whatever it was that attacked ya earlier. How'd it get into your mushroom anyway? I thought ya had the door smurfed."

"I thought so too." Papa Smurf answered, shuddering slightly as he thought about his encounter with the diseased animal. "It may have been a digging creature, and smurfed in through the floor. Another possibility is that the creature is either magic or being aided by magic." Which was entirely plausible. It would be just like one of their enemies to do something like this. Either way, the beast was bad news. Diseased animals didn't smurf any better though, so it wasn't really the creature's fault. Was it?

Could it be acting of its own will, knowing what it was doing? The thought was frightening, but plausible. Magical creatures generally had knacks for causing trouble, certain species excluded, and it was usually on purpose. What would a magical creature have against his family though? What had they done to warrant such actions? Nothing, as far as Papa Smurf was aware.

Behind the two of them, a twig snapped. Both instantly tensed and looked at each other. Could it be the creature? Had it followed them here? Papa Smurf focused on the area right behind them, imagining a creature there. The next second, whatever it was was levitated by Papa Smurf's magic. He and Farmer turned; ready to come face to face with the red glowing eyes. They had _not _expected to see a frightened, quivering Sassette there. She was quickly and gently levitated down. Papa Smurf ran over with Farmer, taken by surprise when the little Smurfling suddenly threw her arms around his neck and held on. The other Smurflings were nowhere to be seen, and there were tears in her overalls. What had happened?

"Pappy… Help." She croaked. They could both see the deep scratches on her arms, ones that had drawn blood. What kind of monster would hurt a child so innocent and young? They already knew the answer: A red eyed one.

Farmer looked ready to hunt the creature down and then rip it apart with his bare hands. Papa Smurf felt the same, but tried to coax the little Smurfing into speaking.

"Sassette, what did this to you? Do you feel alright? Where are the other Smurflings?" At the last question, Sassette buried her head into his shoulder.

"I-I l-left *hic* left them! I-I had t-ta find you, a-and that thing was s-so scary t-that I-I-" She didn't finish the sentence, shaking harder. "I t-think it smurfed N-Nat."

Papa Smurf felt his blood go cold.

"Sasssette, what do you mean? What got Nat?" The Smurfling kept shivering.

"R-red e-eyes. It p-pinned Nat down, and I heard him s-screaming! Oh, Pappy, it was awful! You've g-gotta help m-me smurf them!" Her fingernails were digging into him, but her pleas cut deeper. What was he to do? Go after his children who were so determined to see Miner, or back to the Smurflings? The Smurfs out and about were not in immediate danger. The Smurflings however, were. There was really no choice to make.

Papa Smurf managed to untangle himself from Sassette and left calming her to Farmer, who whispered words he couldn't hear into the poor girl's ear. The two adult Smurf ran back in the direction Sassette had come from, the village. As they got closer they could hear screams and yells, as well as… neighs? What was that? Perhaps the monster was part horse?

Nope. When they finally got to the scene, they were greeted to the sight of a very enraged Hefty Smurf, tussling around with the red eyed creature. His Smurf hat was off, showing the ears on his head. Apparently they were horse ears, if the hooves his fists had changed into were any indication. He kicked and punched it, even biting the creature at one point.

* * *

Farmer wanted to join the fight, but didn't want to risk hitting Hefty. At least, he thought that was Hefty. What in the smurf had happened to him? Was this the disease, or just a curse of some kind from the creature? Sassette was holding onto his hand with a deathgrip, her eyes locked onto the creature.

Farmer looked around, eyes finding nothing in the pitch black. They came here to help the Smurflings. Question was, where were they?

"F-Farmer?" Slouchy's voice was calm, even now, though not at all relaxed. Farmer's head snapped over to where the sound had come from, and saw Slouchy leaning up against a nearby mushroom, clothes ruffled and torn. Slouchy himself didn't seem to be any worse for wear, but Farmer couldn't be sure of that just yet.

"Slouchy? Ya okay, Smurflin?" Slouchy just nodded slowly. Farmer looked around, but couldn't see any sign of Nat or Snappy.

"Where are the other two, Slouchy? Where are Snappy and Nat?" Farmer asked keeping his voice as calm as he could. It came out stressed anyway. Slouchy just shook his head slowly, shrugging.

"I dunno. They were here one moment, and the next they weren't. Sassette? You okay?" Slouchy asked, an eyebrow raised at his sister. She nodded at first, but then quickly shook her head.

"No Slouchy, I'm not. I'm w-worried about Snappy and Nat. What if t-that creature g-got them?" Farmer let go of her hand slowly, and the little Smurfing ran over to her friend, giving him a hug. "I'm glad you're o-okay. D-do ya think maybe they smurfed a-away?" Slouchy shrugegd and looked down.

* * *

"I-I dunno Sassette. Maybe." Sassette let go and stood next to him, both of them now watching Hefty's tussle with the red eyed beast. She felt something brush her arm and looked over. Slouchy was still leaning against the mushroom, but was that a- It was!

"Slouchy!" She hissed. He shushed her, and slowly looked around. No one had noticed. Papa Smurf and Farmer were too busy trying to help Hefty while not getting attacked by the creature. Yes, that was a long brown furry tail in place of the usual small blue one. Before Sassette could comment, she and Slouchy were grabbed suddenly by their shoulders and yanked backwards.

* * *

Hefty was giving the fight his all, but he could tell they were at a stalemate. He hadn't expected to fight a red eyes monster so late at night, if at all. Then again, Hefty hadn't expected for the screams of the Smurflings and his brothers to wake him up either. It had seemed like a nightmare, running out of his house to find this thing attacking his family.

Papa Smurf tried to hit the creature with magic, but his first and only shot had hit Hefty, giving him a painful burn on his shoulder. He hadn't tried again in case he hit the wrong target once more. He looked at the hoe Farmer still had with him, and an idea struck him. For the first time in hours, Papa Smurf smiled, despite being tired and frustrated.

"Farmer, do you mind if I borrow your hoe for a moment?" Farmer tossed it to the leader without a second thought. Papa Smurf muttered a spell, one which made the metal end so hot that it began to smoke. The heat was enough to make the metal melt, so Papa Smurf was rather quick. He waved the burning tool near the creature fighting with Hefty. It was still dark enough that nothing of the creature could be seen, yet the monster vanished almost immediately. If the creature didn't like light, it probably wasn't going to like being burned either.

Papa Smurf cooled the tool and handed it back.

Hefty sat up, shaking his head wearily. He had bites and scratches covering him from head to toe, not to mention the burn on his shoulder. Had he succeeded? Hefty didn't see any of his brothers or Sassette, which worried him. Had that creature taken them away somehow? Had Hefty failed?

"Pssst! Hefty, over here!" All three Smurfs turned their heads to see Dabbler sticking his head out from behind his mushroom. He used a gloved hand to wave them over, looking from side to side as he did so. He hoped no one else saw him; too many Smurfs were involved as it was. Farmer offered Hefty a hand up, which he tried to accept. He failed, if only because he couldn't grip anything with his hand-turned-hoof. He shrugged at the crop-gathering Smurf, who, with some difficulty, grabbed his hoof and pulled him up.

The three ran over to Dabbler's, Hefty lagging behind slightly. Dabbler was at the door, now with a lab coat, mask, and gloves on. In fact, there wasn't much skin showing at all, something Dabbler was grateful for. His scales were a big enough issue when only he knew how much they covered. Dabbler did not wish to scare or worry his family like that when they had other issues at hand. Speaking of which…

"Er, Farmer, I think you better stay out. You too Papa Smurf. We don't need you getting infected as well." Dabbler suddenly found a slightly dented, as well as more than slightly melted, hoe being pushed up against his throat. Farmer's brow was furrowed and his eyes weren't more than slits.

"I have the right to come in, just like everybody else. Your nuts if you think I'm just gonna walk away, content with seeing everythin but knowing nothin. Besides, Papa Smurf was attacked by that creature earlier, and if he ain't infected now, he ain't ever gonna be." Dabbler grabbed onto the hoe and tried to relieve the pressure being put on his throat, but that only served to make Farmer angrier. "Dabbler, you don't have a choice. I'm comin in, whether ya like it or not!" Dabbler nodded frantically, the small part of his face that was visible turning purple.

Farmer quickly took the hoe away from Dabbler's neck, now smiling. He nodded his head appreciatively when he, Papa Smurf, and Hefty were all allowed in.

"Thank ya very much, Dabbler, that's rather kind of ya." The doctor glared at him, rubbing his neck.

"Not a problem." Something seemed to occur to Papa Smurf, and he quickly turned to Dabbler, eyes wide.

* * *

"When we got here Dabbler, Sassette and Slouchy were with us. I didn't see them though when the creature disappeared. Have you seen them, by any chance?" Dabbler smiled, even if his father or the others couldn't see it beneath his mask.

"As I matter of fact, I have. You can all come out now, it's safe." He called around the room. Sassette crawled out from underneath the bed along with Snappy, neither looking too harmed. Slouchy came out from behind Dabbler with Nat, although they did have some noticeable changes. They had some rather deep scratches as well, Nat more so, and their tails were different. Nat tried to scurry back behind Dabbler, but Slouchy gently reached over and not-so-gently yanked him back out into the open by his tail. Normally, that would have been near impossible, but since Nat now had a large puffy black and white tail, it was quite easy. Slouchy's brown tail just sort of lazed from side to side for all to see, Slouchy not quite looking at anyone. Nat looked at the ground, fidgeting slightly. Dabbler looked around the room, slightly miffed.

"I said _all _of you. Come on, it's only Hefty, Farmer, and Papa Smurf. The mobs aren't here!" The closet door opened, and Brainy, Reporter, and Greedy all came out, each with scratches and bites of their own. Brainy had big triangular ears on his head, Reporter had a beak, and Greedy had paws. It was quite an interesting sight.

"Apparently these three were knocked out in the mess hall, and that's how the creature found them. No idea how the Smurflings got involved though." Dabbler turned to the four mentioned Smurfs, an eyebrow raised.

"W-well, it was Snappy's idea-" Nat began, but was quickly cut off by Snappy.

"My idea? You're the one who wanted a drink of water!" Snappy said, finger accusingly pointed at Nat.

"Yeah, but I didn't say that we should go and-" Nat was cut off once more, this time by Sassette.

"Snappy, you're the one who got us all to go with Nat since he was too scared." Nat looked at Sassette indignantly.

"Was not!"

"Was too! You said you didn't want to go out alone, so Snappy opened his big mouth-" Slouchy's calm voice cut her off.

"You're the one who got me to go along, Sassette, even if Snappy made you go with them, you didn't have to drag me too." Soon all four were shouting and arguing with one another.

"It was all your fault!"

"No, it was yours!"

"You really caused it all."

"I did not!"

Dabbler had had enough.

"It smurf to me," He started, effectively shutting the Smurflings up. "That Nat was understandably frightened of going out into the night, what with the disease and that creature going around, and Snappy was brave enough to go with him. You two," He said, pointing at Sassette and Slouchy. "Were nice enough to smurf your support and go along as well. It simply backfired because of that monster."

The Smurflings were all nodding.

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Well, when you put it _that _way…"

"That smurfs about right!"

"Yup!"

"Good. Now, what's this about that thing attacking you, Papa Smurf? Are you injured?" Dabbler asked, checking their leader for bites and cuts.

"Not to my knowledge Dabbler. Thank you for your concern, though. I understand what happened to all of you, but why are you in Dabbler's house? And Hefty, what were you smurfing out there?" Papa Smurf asked, looking at all of his children.

"Well, the infirmary's blocked off, and that creature DID attack everyone close enough to here that the noise woke me up." Dabbler explained.

* * *

"I heard the screaming, Papa Smurf. I didn't know what was going on, so when I went out to look and saw the Smurflings and the others getting attacked, I just sort of charged the thing." Hefty explained, shrugging slightly. Acts of heroism were the norm for the strong Smurf; he didn't really see the big deal. The others however, were quite grateful for his quick acting.

"While that was very brave of you Hefty, you're lucky you weren't injured more than you are. That creature is dangerous, and we have no idea about what it is or could smurf." Papa Smurf admonished lightly. "By the way, what happened to your hands? The last time I saw you, they were normal." Hefty shook his head slightly.

"I don't know Papa Smurf, I just woke up and they were like this." Hefty admitted, looking at the hooves. It felt weird not to have fingers and be able to use them. "How about you Dabbler, any changes when you woke up?" Dabbler tensed slightly, but quickly relaxed himself. The action did not go unnoticed.

"No, not really." No one bought that. In fact, no one doubted that Dabbler was lying through his teeth.

"Dabbler, Dabbler, Dabbler, you really shouldn't lie because deceit smurfs to-" Brainy didn't get to finish his lecture, because the effective combination of everyone's glares was enough to get him to shut his mouth.

Papa Smurf sighed and let his shoulders slump.

"Brainy was right though Dabbler, even if he didn't say it the best way. You shouldn't lie to us, we're your family. Now are you sure that nothing's changed?" Dabbler sighed, caught.

"Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you." He took the mask and gloves off, but he kept the lab coat on. He outright refused to frighten them too much by showing them everything.

Dabbler's face was covered in scales, all the way until right below his eyes. His teeth were sharp and jagged, while the scales were a dark green. He had sharp claws instead of nails, and the green scales covered every bit of his hands and nearly all of his arms.

"See? I tried to protect you, but you wouldn't listen to me. Satisfied now?" Dabbler asked, regretting ever even admitting he had changed. He made sure that his tongue stayed firmly in his mouth, not wanting to accidentally have it shoot out and stick to something like it had earlier when he first woke up. He tried to stop himself, but he grew angrier and angrier with himself and his scales. The scales turned red, making everybody reel back. Dabbler's mentally cursed himself as he tried to calm back down, turning the scales the grey they had been hours ago. He grumpily shoved the mask and gloves back on, not looking anyone in the eye.

"Now that we've satisfied everyone's curiosity, I would like to ask once again, what's this about the creature smurfing you? In your own home, no less?" He directed the question at Papa Smurf. The elder nodded his head slightly, trying to think of a way to tell the truth without scaring the Smurflings. They had gone through enough for one night, hadn't they?

"Well, I was busy trying to figure out a cure for the disease, when the candle next to me blew out and I saw the creature's red eyes. It briefly had me pinned, but Farmer came and chased it off with his candle." Dabbler only nodded, eyes widening slightly.

"That's eerily similar to what happened to Miner. You're really lucky if you don't catch the disease after that encounter, Papa Smurf. It doesn't look like you have, but I'd be careful for the next few days, just in case. Which," Dabbler grumbled glaring at Farmer "Is why you shouldn't be in here. Either of you."

"Watch it, lizard-Smurf. I'm willin to risk it, and Papa Smurf seems immune." Dabbler fumed at the insult and Farmer's stubbornness.

"But you _shouldn't_ be willing to risk it! This is a terrible disease, one no one should ever have to go through. Do you hear me? Never! Get Sassette and Snappy away while you can, save them too!" Snappy and Sassette however, were just as stubborn. They refused to budge, not once leaving their friends' side. "Fine! You all want this to happen to you, to be smurfed into _monsters_?! The go ahead, see if I care!"

Dabbler shook, his hands curled up into fists. Why wouldn't they listen? Were they stupid?! Apparently so.

No, it wasn't right for him to think of them that way. They just hadn't experienced it, so they couldn't really understand what he was saying. Ignorance may have been bliss, but it could also be very dangerous.

"Sorry. That was wrong of me. I mean it though; you don't want this to happen to you." He tried to calmly warn them, but he had a feeling they wouldn't listen.

They didn't.

"Pappy knows what he's doin Dabbler, he'll smurf everything. You'll see!" Sassette smiled up at him, making Dabbler feel even worse. This young Smurfling was still at the stage where she never doubted her parents, never thought that her elders may not know what to do. Could he really allow for her to be changed? Did he even have a choice?

No, he didn't. Well, that was just smurfy.

* * *

Farmer quickly tapped their leader on the shoulder.

"Weren't we supposed to be stoppin some certain Smurfs from doin a certain stupid somethin?" Farmer asked, realizing what they hadn't done. Papa Smurf caught on quickly and resisted face palming. Of all the things… Why couldn't they have just left alone? Why did his children have to be so rebellious and curious?

"Who's done what?" Hefty asked, unaware of what they were talking about. What was so important? It couldn't have been much, nothing exciting ever happened in the middle of the night. Well, almost nothing. Hefty grimaced as he remembered his brutal fight with the monster that was responsible for all their troubles, and hoped that he would never have to see that rotten thing again. If they ever did meet though, Hefty would be sure to knock it's teeth out, assuming it even had a mouth. It was strange that no one had seen anything but it's eyes. Papa Smurf seemed to smurf it was afraid of the light though, so maybe that explained it. It would never go near any, so how could anyone know what it looked like? Simple. They didn't.

"Some Smurfs held a meetin, and at the end of that meetin, Nosey revealed where Miner's bein quarantined." Farmer growled, eyeing Reporter. Said Smurf shrugged, arms crossed.

"Hey, you gotta smurf the news from somewhere, and what better than from the source? Better Miner that that monster." Farmer just snarled at Reporter, eyes narrowing into a sharp glare. "Look, I'm not saying it was a good idea, but the details we did get were vague, and I for one wanted to know more."

"Are you happy now?" Dabbler asked, miffed. Why did everyone seem so gung-ho about catching this disease? One minute they avoided it like the plague, the next minute they all smurfed it! Reporter nodded, now looking away from everyone. He hadn't expected anything like this, and part of him was still desperately trying to cling onto the possibility that it was all a dream. He already smurfed it wasn't though, because not even in his wildest dreams would he be able to think something like this up.

"I suppose we go after them, Papa Smurf?" Farmer asked, already walking towards the door. Papa Smurf shook his head though, and his response stopped Framer dead in his tracks.

"No." Farmer span around quickly, confusion easy to see on his face.

"'No'? Whaddya mean, no? We're just gonna smurf 'em out there to get themselves killed?" Farmer's temper was flaring again. He knew he shouldn't snap, not at Papa Smurf of all people, but his family was out there right now, possibly in danger. Yes, it was their own stupid fault, but he wasn't just going to abandon them.

"We have no idea how they attempt to get there, how to get to them without getting ourselves smurfed, or what will happen if we leave. What if that creature comes back here and attacks more Smurfs, Farmer?" Farmer looked Papa Smurf right in the eye, not backing down.

"I imagine Hefty would go and knock its smurf off! I don't think he can go save the Smurfs out there though. Heck, for all we know, they're already in trouble! Smurfs are fine here, but out there they aren't." Papa Smurf groaned and looked away. He did not like being stuck between a stubborn Smurf and a hard place. Dabbler stepped between the two, ending their argument.

"Look, let's take care of things here first, okay? Once we're done with that, then you two can decide where to go and what to do. Besides, Farmer, since you're so insistent to be around the disease, you can help me smurf care of everybody's injuries." Dabbler's grin was every bit smug as it was tired.

* * *

Clumsy Smurf wasn't the luckiest Smurf in the world, but he thought that it was bad even for him to start the day of this way: Soaked to the bone and pinned to the ground by a red eyed creature.

Now that he thought about it, this whole crazy thing had begun hours ago, when Brainy went off alone to be interrogated by Reporter. Clumsy had been disappointed that he couldn't be with his best friend, but playing with Smoogle and Baby, as well as talking to Grandpa and Nanny, helped take his mind off things.

Well, until he woke up in the middle of the night to hear Brainy screaming. Clumsy didn't understand why Brainy was screaming or where he was, but he did know that his best friend was in trouble. So, he'd charged out of his house towards the sound of the screams, only to trip over a rock and tumble down a steep hill. When he'd tried to get up, he was blown over by the wind, so he rolled and rolled until he reached the bottom.

…Which just so happened to be where the River Smurf was, the river of which was freezing at that time of day and year. After finally unsticking himself from all the tangled plants keeping him in the water, Clumsy ran to where he remembered the screams coming from. They had smurfed by that point, but that didn't stop Clumsy. In fact, it only made him go faster. Had something happened to Brainy? Why had he stopped? Before Clumsy could find out, some creature with glowing red eyes had tackled him. Since he had been on his way up the hill, this meant the two of them tumbled back down together, rolling and rolling until they reached the bottom and were smurfed in the twisted plants that somehow lived in the freezing River Smurf.

Clumsy had gotten himself out once more, but the creature kept thrashing and was pulled under. Clumsy, being the Smurf he was, dove back into the freezing water and untangled the plants from the creature. When the two had gotten out, both gasping for air, Clumsy was unexpectedly pinned down by the animal.

Today wasn't his day.

* * *

Puppy's ears perked up, picking up on the nearby screams. He immediately knew they belonged to some members of his pack, and the once sleeping dog sprang into action, charging towards the screams. Puppy however stopped once the scent of his pack's omega reached him, going over a hill. He was torn between helping the members of his pack that were screaming and the omega who had strayed too far.

Suddenly, the screams stopped and roars sounded from the area ahead. It sounded like his other pack mates had come to the rescue. That left him to take care of the omega. Using his nose, the dog quickly traced his pack member to the river. He was shocked to see a red eyed creature on top of the omega, though. Puppy suddenly felt like running in the other direction. The creature smelled evil, in a word, and it took all of his willpower to stand without shaking. As the being tried to bite the omega's neck, something snapped inside of him.

This foul creature thought it could just attack any member of the pack it wanted to without having to pay for it? Even if the pack member attacked was just the omega, Puppy felt outraged. This creature would just have to learn its lesson, like that filthy orange cat he had to deal with so often. The cat had learned after the first time to avoid him, this being would soon learn the same. Puppy dove for it, slamming the being off with his paws. It was rather small and no match for the dog that was more than thrice its size and strength.

The creature didn't even put up a fight, it just vanished. A magical being then. The dog quickly looked the omega over, distressed to find more than one bite on its upper body. The cuts reeked of magic, and Puppy felt even more anger towards the creature. A magical creature had dared attack and infect a magic species, one that was his pack?! The being had no brains then, or if it did they would soon be smashed out.

What really bothered the dog was its scent, or lack thereof. All animals had some kind of scent, one that identified their gender and species. There had been nothing but magic on the creature. In his 1000 years of living, Puppy had never seen or smelt anything like it. However, that wasn't his main concern right now. The omega, who wasn't moving, was.

He gently prodded the omega with his paw, but it didn't move. Worried, he picked the omega up with his mouth and bounded towards where his home was, only to realize that he was lost. The only way he could get there was if one of his pack mate's guided him, and the omega wasn't moving, much less walking, at the moment.

Could he return to his old companion? He supposed he could but Puppy felt like he would be rather silly, asking for help to find his own home. No, he could get them there… maybe.

* * *

Miner laughed along with his two brothers as the sun set, having the time of his life. He didn't get to see Timber and Wooly often, but he was rather glad he could be with them now. After a while, he even started to forget about his nose. Well, except for when some new fur sprung up; it had grown slowly and hurt quite a bit at the time.

"Don't lie, Wooly. You couldn't have done that!" Miner roared with laughter.

Wooly didn't lie, per say, but he really knew how to stretch the truth.

"It's the truth Miner, I swear it on my smurf." Neither Miner nor Timber could stop laughing at the ridiculous story their brother was spinning. "Oh, forget it. Your never gonna believe me, are ya?"

Both shook their heads, unable to speak.

They eventually calmed down, and the three of them just enjoyed the silence. It was such a peaceful night, what with the fire crackling beside them and the stars twinkling overhead. Miner wished it could last forever, the three of them goofing off and enjoying nature. He should have known it was too good to last.

Screaming pierced through the air, jolting the three Smurfs from the peaceful atmosphere and into a much tenser, nastier one. It seemed to be coming from nearby, not too far from the caves. It wasn't coming from the village, but that didn't matter. What mattered was that someone was in danger, multiple someones if Wooly heard correctly.

"What do you think's going on?" Timber asked, his voice lowered.

"Dunno. Ye think it's humans?" Timber nodded thoughtfully at Miner's suggestion, but Wooly shook his head. Those screams weren't human, too quiet and high pitched, but something else entirely. In fact, he would bet money, if he had any, that they were Smurf screams.

"Let's not wait around, let's go find out!" Wooly insisted, stretching slightly as he got out of his sleeping bag. Miner and Timber also got out of their sleeping bags. They would have been tired had they not been spooked awake by the screaming. Carefully, they each walked out of the cave, eyes searching wildly for any animals or creatures. Miner kept thinking back to the red eyes he saw the other day, and he hoped with all his might that that was not the cause of the screams.

The screams did not stop, but as they got closer the shrieks got even louder and more frantic. Miner's hopes were squished as he saw that awful abomination pinning Nosey to the ground. Perfect. Just what they needed.

"What in the smurf is that?!" Wooly's grip tightened on his lasso. Never before had he seen such a beast, and never again did he want to see one. Even if all one could see was the eyes, there was something _off_ about it.

"That's the creature that gave me this." Miner muttered, pointing at his nose, his eyes not leaving the monster for even half a second. Timber and Wooly shared a look, but neither said anything.

"How about we give it a lesson it won't forget?" Timber asked, grabbing a nearby branch on the ground. Wooly gave him a smile as he readied his rope. Miner looked down at his pickaxe, glad he brought it. This time, the creature wasn't going to get away. Likewise, no one knew if they would be able to get away.


	4. Chapter 4

_Don't go, not yet. Don't you smurf. So help me…_

If Hefty healed, the first thing Dabbler would do was hug his brother. Then he'd kill him. Why did Hefty have to be so stupid? So rash? He cursed once again under his breath as he eyed one of the many wounds Hefty had received from the red eyed creature. How on earth had he even gotten that burn? The disease was helping the strong Smurf's recovery, but certainly not quickly enough. Dabbler knew for a fact that, strange disease or not, the wounds were not supposed to turn green. He'd gotten infected somehow. Smurftastic.

"Hefty, the next time you get the urge to be a hero, do us all a favor: Smurf it." Dabbler grumbled, adding more remedies he had stored around his house to the various cuts and scratches. Hefty winced and twitched once or twice in turn, but didn't make move or make much sound beyond that. He didn't bother trying to defend his actions; It was never a good idea to argue with someone who smurfed just how to make everything 10 times more painful and somehow keep you alive through it.

Honestly, Hefty was a bit too preoccupied thinking about what may have happened had he not shown up and the creature had continued attacking. He didn't like the possibilities. One moment in particular kept playing over and over in his mind, despite how hard Hefty tried to block it. Sassette had come scarily close to being bitten by the monster, and it had only been his tackling the beast off of her that had stopped Sassette from becoming creature chow. Hefty wasn't bragging about it; it was a simple fact. The Smurflings were far too innocent to ever have to smurf through something like that, and especially not in such a scary setting or with such a rotten thing causing them their pain. They shouldn't even have been in any pain to begin with.

Farmer, when not helping Dabbler with bandages or remedies, paced the small mushroom, as angry and irritated with what had smurfed as Hefty. Papa Smurf and Dabbler had remained firm on not letting Farmer chase after his wayward brothers, and it irked him. Really irked him. Every second that passed was one more to the creature, one more it could use to chase them down. Didn't mean they were smurfing anything about it though, did it? No, of course not.

Papa Smurf himself wanted to do something, but he wasn't just about to let Farmer go out and smurf himself into harm's way. They needed everyone as close to the village and as safe as possible. He had thought it was safe, anyway. Apparently it wasn't, nowhere near as safe as Papa Smurf hoped and believed it was. They'd also have to deal with that, but later. The morning sounded like a good time, when everyone was hopefully back unscathed. When morning came, he was going to deal with a lot of things he'd rather not deal with.

As if to counter the mood Slouchy smiled at Snappy, his brown tail gently poking him. Snappy smurfed back at the furry contact, glaring at Slouchy. Said Smurfling just chuckled under his breath and turned his attention to the bandaged cuts on his right hand, running his thumb over them. Annoying Snappy always made him feel better, especially when he reacted so quickly. If one thing remained constant, it was that Snappy could and would easily… snap. It was as sure a fact as the sun always coming up or Brainy always being annoying.

Slouchy didn't like the thought of Sassette and Snappy becoming animals too, but he liked the idea of them being separated from him and Nat even less. So, yeah, maybe he was being a tiny bit selfish with trying to make sure they did catch it, what with discreetly and not-so-discreetly jabbing them with his tail. However, after what they'd gone through that night, Slouchy felt like he maybe deserved to be selfish, for a little while at least. Sassette, Snappy, Nat, and he were perhaps the tightest knit Smurfs that he or anyone else knew of. He didn't want anything to break or sever those bonds, especially not some disease.

Maybe Slouchy felt guilty about being selfish, but he didn't want to feel guilty. He wanted to kickback and act as if nothing was happening, even if it was. This did not mean Nat, who knew what Slouchy was doing, couldn't feel guilty. He could, and boy did he ever! Part of him wanted to try and get Sassette and Snappy out, by force if necessary, but the other part of him was almost content with leaving them unknowing of Slouchy's plan and was practically feeling happy and relieved that all four of them would smurf through it together. The part of him that felt guilty was horrified by the other part's relief, while the one the wanted to help was tangled up in the other parts' arguing. In other words, the nature loving Smurfling was a bit on the conflicted side.

Sassette herself actually wouldn't have minded had she noticed, and in truth she kind of did. It was almost hard not to, what with something fuzzy brushing her cheek every few minutes. If it meant her friends wouldn't be alone, then she didn't really smurf an issue. They would go through it together, or find a cure so none would. Sassette didn't like being alone. She'd absolutely hated it when she had to go off alone and leave her friends behind to get help. The young Smurfling wasn't going through that fear and pain again if she had a choice.

Snappy himself was more or less as aware of it as Sassette, but that didn't stop him from getting irritated with Slouchy's poking. He didn't care if it was so they could be together and not be separated, it was still annoying. Well, maybe he did care. A bit. A whole lot actually, but he'd rather listen to one of Brainy's lectures than admit it out loud. It wasn't like they were always together they just… Weren't separate a lot.

It happened, sure, like when Nat when for a nature walk or Sassette went to try on dresses and do other girly things at Smurfette's, but the idea of being separated for an unknown period of time was unnerving. Snappy didn't want that to smurf to them, ever, and he was fairly confident it never would. He had doubts though. There were always doubts.

The Smurflings may have had their own way of dealing with the changes and disease, but Brainy had settled for good old fashioned disbelief and panic. This couldn't have been happening, not to him at any rate. And of all things, why his ears? It wasn't like his hearing was the best before, but Brainy had liked them the way they normally were. Granted he could hear a heck of a lot more now, and could even tell where someone was and what position they were in without even looking at them. That reminded him of yet another problem; His eyes. Brainy's eyesight wasn't fairing all too well, everything looking slightly blurry even with his glasses. Oh well, it probably wasn't anything important, and certainly not something to bother Papa Smurf with.

Reporter was having a similar reaction to his beak. How on earth could he report any news like this? It wouldn't really matter if no one got back, though, which bothered the reporting Smurf even more. Smurf, he was going to be in huge trouble when/if they all got back. The meeting had been his idea hadn't it? This was all his fault, in a twisted way, and he was going to be wrung dry for it. Not that Reporter was going to think about that right now. No, he had enough issues at the moment without having to worry about what was going to happen. Reporter instead focused on stranger things that crossed his mind or grabbed his attention, like why he had the weird desire to repeat random words he picked up from the conversations around him. Normally he just wanted to write them down. It was strange, to say the least.

Reporter was drawn from his thoughts as Greedy's head ended up on his shoulder once more. Sighing, he simply nudged him awake. Reporter, Brainy, and Greedy were all sitting on Dabbler's bed, Greedy in the middle. He had been dozing off, leaning on either Brainy or Reporter each time. The Smurf in question would just jolt the cooking Smurf awake. Greedy himself couldn't figure out why he was so tired or kept drifting off to sleep. He didn't always doze off like this, like Lazy did. Wasn't he supposed to be brimming with energy after what had smurfed or something? None of the others seemed near as tired as he looked or felt. Some looked troubled, like something was bothering them. Well, he supposed tiredly, they probably had one issue or another bugging them. Yawning again, he couldn't really bring himself to even care about what any of the problems could be. Something wasn't right, that was for sure. Well, beyond the obvious.

To sum it up, everyone had issues and things bothering them. The Smurfs that were still in their own houses were blissfully unaware of what was smurfing on or what had happened to their family, snoozing peacefully. How lucky they were. Then again, not everyone was in that mushroom, nor were they all in their beds. Those Smurfs had their own set of problems to deal with.

* * *

"Omega, are you awake?" Clumsy was faintly aware of someone saying this, but to who or why he didn't smurf. What had happened again? He'd been doing something hadn't he? Yeah, he'd been… running, but why? Because… Because someone had been screaming. Who had been screaming though? Wh-

Brainy! The village klutz's head shot up, his eyes blinking rapidly. Now Clumsy remembered why he had been running: He had heard Brainy screaming. Had something happened to his best friend? Was Brainy okay? What was Clumsy smurfing he- Oh. Right.

He'd run into an animal with red eyes. Now that he thought about it, it was more like the creature smurfed into Clumsy, hard. Then- Nothing. Clumsy puzzled and puzzled, but he couldn't remember a single thing after he'd been pinned. Where was he? How had he gotten there?

For the first time since he'd regained consciousness, Clumsy looked around. There were just a bunch of trees, Puppy, more trees... Puppy?! Why was Puppy there? Come to think of it, where was "there" anyway? As Clumsy tried to figure it out, the same voice from before smurfed again.

"Omega, you are injured. It would probably be best just to lie down and rest until you feel better." Clumsy didn't recognize the voice at all, and that made him just a little bit nervous. Who was this person? Who was "Omega"? Were they nearby? Clumsy stretched and tried to get a better look at whoever was speaking and what was going on, but stopped suddenly. Ow. Owowowow. Ouch. That hurt.

Clumsy had a lot of issues, but he didn't usually have back problems. Straightening it out, however, was currently out of the question. In other words, it wouldn't. It stubbornly refused to smurf.

"Hmm, I wondered if other parts of your body had also been changed." Two things suddenly occurred to Clumsy. One: Whoever was talking was talking to him, even if his name wasn't "Omega", and Two: Puppy was the one talking. Really! Clumsy wasn't smurfing this up. At least, he was pretty sure he wasn't. Then again, as Brainy had told him time and time again, he was an easy to deceive person. It wasn't like the Smurfs didn't have enemies, after all. Maybe this was a trick by one of them. Maybe not…

"P-Puppy?" Clumsy asked, jaw hanging open jussssst slightly. Maybe he was just imagining things, or maybe he was still asleep. This could all just be a dream, maybe. Or a nightmare. Any second now he'd smurf up, back in his bed, right?

Wrong. Dead wrong, even. The dog moved until it was in front of him and sat down. He looked worried, as worried as a dog could look, at any rate, and didn't seem to be as cheerful as he normally was. His tail wasn't wagging, and Puppy certainly wasn't bounding with excitement as he usually did. Plus, he was TALKING! Clumsy couldn't wrap his mind around the last part. He'd smurfed it, he knew it was Puppy, but it didn't make any sense, and it scared the living daylights out of him.

"Yes, Omega?" No use denying it. This was real, and it was definitively happening.

Puppy himself was a bit tired of the omega's games. While he was rather pleased at the fact that the omega seemed to fully understand him, he was also worried about the mutations that had happened to the omega, changing him in mere hours. Well, not ALL of the omega had changed, but the progress was still startling. For one reason or another, perhaps because of the changes, the omega just opened and closed his mouth once or twice, and then grinned.

"It's smurfy to be able ta understand ya, Puppy, but what am I doin here? What are you doin here? Why can't Ah straighten out?" Puppy huffed, shaking his head in amusement. Humanoids. How strange they were. Had he not noticed yet? The dog walked over and gently tugged on one of the omega's ears with his teeth. That seemed to grab his pack mate's attention.

Clumsy tried to jump back at first, a bit scared and shocked at the contact. Did it have something to do with his ears? He raised his left hand to try and get Puppy to release his ear, all trains of thought stopping when he caught sight of his hand. Or, at least, what he thought was his hand. The appendage was a sandy colored paw, looking somewhat similar to Puppy's. How in the name of Mother Nature and Father Time had that happened?!

Was his other hand like that? Clumsy quickly smurfed up his right hand and, yes, it was almost exactly like the left. Puppy seemed to know that he'd realized that something was wrong and slowly let go of the ear and backed away slightly. Clumsy tried to use his hand… paw… thing to grab his ear, but all he could do was brush against it. Still, that proved to be enough, as Clumsy could feel that his ears were longer, floppier, and much fuzzier.

"…How?" Clumsy managed to get out, his voice filled with as much curiosity and wonder as confusion and despair. It was a bit overwhelming, to be honest. It wasn't everyday a Smurf woke up to find themselves with long fuzzy ears and paws and with the ability to talk to a dog. At least, no Smurf he knew ever had before, but Clumsy only knew the Smurfs in the village. He didn't know if there were more Smurfs beyond that. Hmmm, he'd have to ask Brainy about that later.

Was his best friend even okay? Clumsy had never found out, and the worry returned full force. Hey, being changed overnight into an animal was one thing, but his best friend possibly being in danger was a whole 'nother ballpark. Puppy, unaware of Clumsy's panic, answered his question.

"There was a red eyed creature. Do you remember it? When I found you, it had you pinned. It had already bitten and scratched you, but those seemed to have faded, strangely enough." The omega still seemed confused, despite the description "You do remember the beast, don't you?"

"Yeah, but how could an animal smurf this ta me?" The omega asked, trying to gesture his ears with a paw, accidentally getting it tangled in one of the ears. Puppy could feel his tail wag, amused by the omega. It was always so funny to see them interacting with the other pack mates, but to actually have the omega able to understand him and converse with him was even more interesting.

"It was a magical animal. I could literally smell the magic radiating from the thing and your wounds. Although the latter may have something to do with you also being a magical creature and having, however small an amount, magic in your blood." This seemed to appease the omega's curiosity for a few seconds. Then he asked another question that both panicked Puppy and made him want to bark out a laugh.

"What about Brainy? Ah heard him screamin, an' that's what got me to smurf ma house in tha first place. Gosh, is he okay?" Puppy looked around, but he didn't see any of their pack mates around.

"Brainy?" Puppy asked, confused. What was the omega going on about?

"Yeah, Brainy. Ya know, big glasses, Ah'm almost always with him...?" The omega asked, finally getting Puppy to remember. Was "Brainy" one of the pack mates who had been screaming? Puppy hadn't paid much attention beyond there being screaming in the first place.

"Oh, now I remember. He is your mate, correct?"

Clumsy almost choked on air, wondering if he had heard Puppy right. As far as he knew, there were two meanings to that word, and he was pretty sure Puppy didn't mean it the way Sweepy and Tracker would. He couldn't have, could he? If he did, though… Well, Puppy may have just had a few misconceptions. A few rather LARGE misconceptions. Clumsy tried to smurf himself down so he could explain it to the dog, but before he could Puppy spoke up.

"I've always been curious about that. If you've been mates for so long, why have there been no pups?" Clumsy started choking again.

* * *

As Timber came face to face, or eyes to eyes as it were, with the creature via being pinned, he realized that he probably should have thought things out a bit more. The beast had been knocked off of Nosey when Timber gave it a rough hit with the stick in his hand, but had quickly switched targets. It smurfed to be nothing if not adaptable. Timber was extremely glad, however, that Wooly was near enough to rope the thing up with his lasso. Miner was next to Timber in an instant, helping the woodsmurf stand. He didn't think he'd been infected, but he couldn't be sure of that with such poor lighting. When he thought about it though, if being around Miner hadn't gotten him infected, what chance did some monster have?

More than he would've liked, if Timber was to be honest. But he wasn't going to be honest, to himself or anyone else, about that right now, so he instead focused on the other Smurfs. Nosey seemed to be more or less alright, no scratches or cuts to be seen, while the others also seemed more or less unscathed. How long they could stay that way was yet to be smurfed.

The animal quickly broke through the rope binding it, sending Wooly, who had been trying to keep the creature from breaking away, flying backwards into the tree behind him, due to there no longer being any force to counter his pulling. Wooly winced, rubbing his now stinging back with the non-blistered hand he had. Rope burns were not a fun thing to experience, and colliding with a tree wasn't any better. He looked down at the remaining bit of snapped rope in his hand and gave an irritated sigh. Wooly had only smurfed along one lasso, and, unfortunately, that was it. He'd just have to use some stones or a branch, like his two brothers. Speaking of which…

Miner dislodged another sharp rock from the grassy forest floor, eyes looking around frantically. Where had the creature gone? Timber ad Wooly's panicked warnings came a second too late, and the rock loving Smurf found himself being pinned against the earth, the creature on top of him once more. Miner did not like the sudden Déjà vu he was experiencing, the red glowing eyes smurfing into him. What on earth was he supposed to do now?

Any and all onlookers had similar problems, many did not fight as it was, and those that could were worried about missing and accidentally hitting Miner instead. The thing's head snapped up as Wooly accidentally snapped a twig when he took a step forward. It made unnatural growl and Wooly quickly stepped backward, momentarily appeasing the creature. The second of awkward and confused silence was all Timber smurfed to get himself into close enough range to throw the large and rough stick in his hand. It went through the air quickly and almost silently, crashing into what he assumed was the animal's head.

In hindsight, that wasn't a smart move.

"Gah!" The piece of wood, almost hit Timber as it ricocheted back at him, barely missing his own head. So much for that. It did succeed in distracting the animal, and it ended up pinning Timber once again, for the second time in only a few minutes.

Timber tried to kick the thing off, no longer content with just lying still. This infuriated the beast even more, and soon Timber found himself the victim of a vicious bite. The monster lunged for his neck, and dug its teeth firmly in. Timber could barely register the shocked and worried cries of his brothers and the excruciating pain he felt before the world went black.

Wooly was mad. No, not mad, not angry, not frustrated, not irritated, but full on _furious_. He hardly even realized what he was doing, tackling the creature and stabbing it viciously with the sharp stick he had just picked up. It was only when his family had wrestled him away did he see that the creature was gone, leaving an unconscious and bleeding Timber in its wake. He barely acknowledged the deep bite wound in his own neck, a result of his violent tussling with the animal.

As the adrenaline quickly left him, Wooly just felt tired. Tired and in pain and concerned. All he wanted to do was get Timber help and make sure he could be healed and then hit the sack. He wouldn't dare do the second until he was sure of the first, though. Taking notice of just how bad and deep the bite was, Wooly smurfed around with his neckerchief before finally getting it off, tying it gently around Timber's neck as soon as he could. He tried to make it tight enough to hopefully slow the bleeding but not tight enough to stop Timber from breathing.

"Smurfin' Begorrà, Wooly! Ye need to get somethin on your own bite. Now." Miner commented, warily eyeing Wooly's wound. It wasn't much better than Timber's, and it seemed that some of the muscles had even been torn and nearly shredded in some places. Wooly nodded numbly, the full effects of the injury finally coming to him, painful enough to nearly knock him unconscious.

"Y-yeah." His voice came out hoarse and garbled, having trouble smurfing it out of his throat. There was definitely something wrong. Wooly didn't even want to think about how painful forcing the one word out had been. He tried to walk, but collapsed to his knees after one wobbly step.

Miner rushed over and tried to get Wooly back to his feet, but it was a futile attempt. No one even attempted to move Timber, every Smurf smurfing away from their three infected brothers. Miner was frustrated as all get out by the attitude, but reminded himself that this was why he was being quarantined. He didn't blame his brothers for being skittish. Well, maybe he could. A little.

However bad the lighting was, what with the moon being behind some clouds, they could still see his nose. They could still see the effects of the sickness. None of them wanted to catch it, which was fine, but he needed help. Someone needed to carry Timber, or at least try to get the poor Smurf to his feet, but there were certainly no volunteers. At least, not at first.

Miner was both surprised and grateful when Nosey and Vanity both walked over, although neither looked too happy about helping. As Vanity and Nosey started arguing over who had to carry what side of Timber, Miner shifted so that he was carrying Wooly in his arms. The task was not the smurfiest, but much easier than it could have been due to how much more he used and exercised the muscles in his arms compared to other Smurfs.

Once everyone was ready to go back to the village, they set off. A good number of the group already knew they were going to be in big trouble once they got back. In his head, the blame for what happened to Wooly and Timber jumped from the creature, to the Smurfs who had ventured out into the forest in the middle of the night, to himself.

The creature had attacked them, and it had bitten both Smurfs necks. They wouldn't even have been near the beast though, if they hadn't heard their family screaming in the night. The screams led them to the animal, which led to them getting attacked. However, Timber and Wooly wouldn't have been anywhere near the screams or the creature had they not decided to give Miner some much desired company. But they had come, and because of that, they were close enough to smurf the screams, and because they heard the screams they went to find the source, and they ended up attacking and being attacked by the monster.

So, it all boiled down to being Miner's fault. He berated himself as they walked, cursing inside his head for not pushing the creature out of the way or getting it to direct its attention to something else. Timber had smurfed it to get it off of Miner, why couldn't Miner do the same in turn? He hadn't been quick enough. If he had… Well, maybe both Wooly and Timber would be walking.

Wooly, had he known what Miner was thinking, would have disagreed fiercely with that line of thought. If he blamed anyone, it would be the monster that attacked them. He was groggy and in pain, but refused to fall asleep. His eyelids felt heavier and heavier by the second, but he reminded himself that he was not allowed to sleep until he knew Timber and the rest of his family was alright. When Miner accidentally bumped the wound as they went over some rocky terrain, Wooly didn't have to worry about falling asleep. No, he twisted slightly in pain, quietly hissing at the contact. Miner had apparently noticed what he'd accidentally smurfed, but there wasn't much he could do about it.

* * *

Handy yawned as he stretched, tiredly looking around his workshop. If he was going to be quarantined, he decided it may as well have been in here. It wasn't a choice that came without risks though, and right after the quarantining had been announced, a few Smurfs had tried to get in, probably looking for clues. It was only Clockwork and his partner's chasing them off that kept them from finding the inventor. Speaking of the Clockworks…

Both of his creations were still snoozing, lying against some of the support beams that helped work as the skeleton of the workshop. The quarantining would have been much more unbearable if they hadn't been with him. Handy remembered why he was being quarantined in the first place, and looked at his hand, slowly wiggling his fingers as he turned it over. The fact that he had five fingers just about drove him nutty.

It made holding things near impossible, mostly because he was used to gripping things with four fingers, and the fifth one really threw him a curveball. How on earth did other species get around with so many? Wasn't it just as annoying to them? No, Handy supposed, they would have had their whole lives to get used to it. He didn't have that luxury. The chaos going on outside was very muffled, but Handy could still hear it. There seemed to be a lot more than usual, some Smurfs even screaming. At who or what he didn't know.

The inventor was ripped from his musings and the Clockworks from their sleep by the rapid knocking at the workshop's large doors. His two children practically ran outside, careful not to reveal Handy when they briefly opened the door and closed it again. Handy slunk up to the doors, putting one of his ears against the wood. He couldn't make out much, and what he could didn't make any sense. Whatever was going on, it was important. Again, how or why he didn't know. Handy was getting kind of tired of having so many questions but no answers.

He was more than surprised when the doors quietly opened, almost hitting him in the face as they did. The really interesting part was the fact that a Smurf entered along with the two Clockworks, looking round the workshop quickly. Handy was still off to the side, and some of the old inventions he had around easily hid him. Hiding meant he didn't see anything of the Smurf who came in, but it also meant that the mystery Smurf didn't see him. Or, he hoped that, at least. His eyesight had worsened slightly as the changing continued, but he wasn't sure if it had kept decreasing or stayed at the below average stage.

Handy tried to listen to the walk of the Smurf, but it didn't sound natural, sounding wobbly and erratic, as if someone was walking on stilts for the first time. Maybe it was Clumsy? No, his walk was more "bouncy", if that even made any sense. Handy was so busy trying to figure out the reason for the abnormality behind the visitor's visit and walk that he didn't notice when the footsteps abruptly stopped.

"Hey pal." Handy nearly shot through the roof as he heard the voice behind him. He span around quickly, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Hefty was sitting right next to him, his eyebrows raised slightly. "You alright?"

Handy nodded quickly, his heartbeat not slowing down in the slightest. How had Hefty…? Who had...? What on earth was…? Why? He swallowed, suddenly feeling rather ill. Had something happened?

"Fine. You just gave me a scare, that's all." The words came out kind of tense, and not at all as reassuring as Handy had hoped they would be. It occurred to Handy that Hefty was covered in bandages, for whatever reason was talking to him, and was still his brother and best friend, so if his heart rate would slow down and stop going at a hundred beats per minute, that would be great. "What happened to you?" He didn't mean for the question to sound rude or anything, he was just curious. Hefty just smiled and leaned back against the incomplete machine behind them, wincing slightly as he did so.

"Oh, nothing much. Just tussled with whatever it is that caused his whole mess and, according to Dabbler, almost died because of it." Hefty shrugged, ignoring or unaware of Handy's look of absolute horror. "You know how he likes to exaggerate." Handy stared at him for a few seconds, his mouth hanging open. After a moment of silence, Handy sighed and leaned against the machine alongside his brother, wondering how Hefty had stayed alive long enough to become an adult. Hefty never really seemed to grasp just how dangerous some of the things he did were.

"Well, if that's all." Handy joked, looking at the ground. It was then he finally, finally, took notice of the hoof next to him. Handy's eyes followed the hoof up to its owner, his brain making the connection. Uh-huh. Just like he thought, the hoof was Hefty's. Instead of hands, the strong Smurf now had two hooves. How had he missed that? Handy was really losing his focus. Hefty noticed Handy's staring, and he quickly put his hooves behind his back.

"Sure." Hefty grumbled shifting so that he got a better look at Handy and Handy didn't get another look at his hooves. It was bad enough having to deal with the Smurfs outside gawking as he walked over here, and he didn't want to smurf with that again. The handysmurf looked even paler than he had the last time Hefty saw him.

His face looked relatively the same, although the fact that Handy had more freckles, however light and few they were, slightly unnerved him. He still had his pencil smurfed behind his ear, but was that…? Yeah, it definitely looked like it. "Is that…?" He let the question hang, Handy's face turning bright red at the question.

"Yeah." Handy answered, unconsciously tugging at some of the soft messy material that covered his head. He hadn't really taken notice of the hair, but then again he'd been trying incredibly hard not to. Hefty stared, not saying anything, but not really doing anything else either. Handy suddenly had the burning desire to just go and find out what it looked like, if only to get away from the undesired attention. He supposed this was payback for staring at Hefty's hooves. Well, if that was the case, he was sorry. Heck, Handy was sorry anyway. He shouldn't have been staring like he had. "Sooooo, do you always just visit quarantined people in broad daylight? Shouldn't you be in quarantine yourself?"

"Nah, you're a special case." That got a smile out of Handy. "But seriously, we're allowed out. I decided I better tell you before the mobs come and get you." Handy blinked a few times, trying to realize what he'd just heard.

"B-but why? What about the disease?" Handy looked towards the doors, now panicked. What if someone else saw him like this? It was bad enough that his best friend had seen him, and now the whole village could?

"Yeah, apparently that animal can get in and out of the village whenever it wants. I ended up fighting it because it attacked a few Smurfs and the Smurflings." Handy couldn't believe what he was hearing. The creature could come and attack whoever it wanted whenever it wanted? The Smurflings had been attacked? Were they okay? How on earth could any creature attack people so young? "Before you ask, they're more or less okay." That was comforting.

"How are you holding up?" Handy asked, knowing how willing Hefty was to shove his own health concerns out of the way. It had been the cause of many a nightmare and headache.

"Smurfy." Hefty smiled, but Handy suddenly felt very, very cold. He licked his dry lips, wondering what he had just been told.

"Pardon?" The panic in Handy's voice was thinly veiled, and Hefty had no trouble picking up on it. He straightened up, despite how much it hurt to do so, and looked his brother in the eye.

"I said-"

"I know what you said, but I want to know what you meant!" Handy was still as could be, his voice sounding like he was in near hysterics. This was bad. Hefty realized with a frown that this was very, very, incredibly, indescribably, unimaginably bad. The Smurfs outside would have a hard enough time trying to be calm around Handy, looking like he did now. But for him to not be able to understand Smurf? Every Smurf knew what the words meant; it was as simple as anything else. Hefty himself, as well as other mutating Smurfs, could still understand it.

It had been rather funny to see and hear Humans trip over it as they tried to speak or understand it, but right now it was anything but amusing. Papa Smurf was the only Smurf that anyone knew who could effortlessly translate the Smurf Language and the Human one, but he wouldn't be able to help Handy constantly, and Hefty was at a loss for what he could do.

What could any of them do?


	5. Chapter 5

"Hey Wooly, how are you feeling?" Said Smurf groggily blinked, trying to decipher the simple words he heard. He looked around the room, recognizing the mushroom he was in as the infirmary.

"H-hurts." He managed to hiss out, pain hitting him full force when he tried to speak. Dabbler, who he realized was standing to the side, frowned.

"Hmm. That's to be expected, what with the injuries you've got." Wooly believed it. He couldn't remember too much of the last night, but he knew it had something to do with red eyes, Timber, and being bitten.

"I'll say. You look worse than me, Wooly!" Timber spoke up, in the bed next to Wooly's. They both looked like they were in a good deal of pain, although both were too stubborn to admit just how much. The hacking and coughing informed Wooly that Sickly was in the bed on the other side of him, but he wasn't smurfing to look for himself. Moving any part of his body ached and stung, but his neck was the worst. It was where he had been bitten, wasn't it? Yes, and it had happened right after… Right after what, exactly? Just thinking about it made him angry.

It involved Timber… had they attacked one another? No. That was ridiculous. Nothing short of mind control would get the two to physically fight, especially to the point where the injuries were this severe. Maybe there had been mind control, though. Wooly wasn't getting anywhere thinking it over, but asking was out of the question. Red eyes… red eyes. That was something he vividly remembered. Now, what had red eyes? Something dangerous. Something rotten. Something that made his blood boil.

Miner. They had been visiting Miner, trying to give him some company. Then there had been screams and then... Nothing. Wooly was still smurfing up a great big blank, no information coming easily. It had to do with a red eyes thing that had attacked Timber and Wooly. Yeah, that sounded right.

He sighed and closed his eyes, frustrated. Wooly had never been one for patience, rather finding things out for himself if someone wouldn't or couldn't tell him something. Maybe he could sleep on it. That sounded like a nice idea, even if it meant being in the dark for a while more.

As soon as Wooly started snoring, both Timber and Dabbler gave relieved sighs. So he hadn't noticed. Not yet, at least. Timber lied back and tried to get to sleep, determined not to think about what the disease had done to him or his brother. How long it would smurf 'till they both turned into animals he didn't know, but it would be soon. Much sooner then he would've liked. However, if things happened the way Timber liked, Wooly wouldn't have been injured and they'd both be spared the rotten effects of the illness. However, it hadn't gone the way Timber would've liked, so here they were. What a fine mess it was, too.

The constant yelling from outside prevented Timber from sleeping, so he settled for worrying. Was Wooly going to be okay? Was he going to be okay? They had both been bitten in some pretty bad spots to be bitten, if Dabbler had told him the truth. Timber had apparently had a major artery cut, and Wooly's vocal cords had been more than a little roughed up. Even Dabbler's finest remedies couldn't fix such issues, at least not quickly, and Papa Smurf was too busy answering questions and trying to get a cure to even try and help.

Timber wasn't bitter about that. Not at all. Alright, it may have bothered him and irritated him, but their father was a very busy Smurf, what with being a leader, and was a leader in the face of an epidemic/crisis to boot. There were other infected Smurfs to deal with, other people to sooth and questions to answer. Would it really have smurfed him to visit his two sons while they were on what very well could have been their death beds? This was their punishment for leaving the village to give Miner some company, wasn't it? There was some big moral in this, probably something like "Listen to the rules and you live." Well, they hadn't followed the rules, had they? No, and now they were going to pay the price for it.

He could think about it later, though, exhaustion having finally won out over worry and the noise, and Timber was snoozing alongside his brother in under a minute. If he had stayed awake just a little bit longer, he would have seen his father enter.

"Hello Dabbler, hello Sickly. How are you two?" Sickly gave a shaky smile as he looked over at Papa Smurf. Dabbler also smiled and nodded, scanning trough some sheets of paper full of information and notes he had written last night.

"Just fine, Papa Smurf. How are you?" The elder just rolled his eyes as he pointed behind him, the noise and chaos still reigning.

"Tired. How are Timber and Wooly?" The two Smurfs in question continued to sleep on, neither aware of the visitor.

"Oh, they've been better. Timber was awake a few smurfs ago, and Wooly was awake for a few seconds during that." The unasked question hung in the air. Dabbler looked at Papa Smurf and then at the two sleeping Smurfs. "I can't heal them. Not with the injuries they have. And, if by some miracle I do, it's likely that Wooly won't be able to speak, and if he still can it won't be beyond one word sentences. Timber probably won't be able to smurf out alone or do anything beyond the basics, in case it does something to that artery." Papa Smurf would probably have to check through a few of his books for a spell that could, at the very least, help with the healing process, but that would take valuable time and energy away that he could use to find a cure. "Papa Smurf, please. Everyone will probably smurf the disease anyway, but Timber and Wooly may not recover from the damage unless you help. I'm doing everything I can, but it still isn't enough." That was enough. Papa Smurf would never, never, take risks or chances when it came to his children's lives.

"I'll see what I can do Dabbler. I will try my hardest, but until then you better keep smurfing to find other remedies or ways to heal them." With that, the leader turned around and walked through the door back into the completely unorganized chaos going on. This in itself was more or less to be expected, what with a number of mutated and infected Smurfs walking around. No, what caught Papa Smurf's attention was the loud number of screams and shouts that came from the other side of the village. This wasn't good.

His speed increased quickly, and Papa Smurf all but ran for the source of the yelling, panic rising. What had happened this time? Nothing good was the only answer he could be sure of.

* * *

Had Papa Smurf known what was going on, he probably would have been rocketing across the village. He didn't know though, so Handy found that he was on his own. Almost. Hefty and the Clockworks were trying to help, but his mind had all but shut down. Handy didn't care who heard him, he just wanted to panic. And he was panicking. He had forgotten how to understand Smurf. This was not good. This was very much the opposite of good.

What else would he forget? How else was he changing? He had thought that maybe he was changing mentally, and this was more than proof enough for him. Handy tried to calm down, but the screams kept coming and coming, and he couldn't stop himself. What was happening to him? Scratch that. He knew what was happening, alright, and he sure as heck didn't like it. Why had he assumed he would be fine? Of course he couldn't! The possibilities that he had tried not to think of that day and the previous day came back to haunt him, scaring the living daylights out of any reasonable part of Handy.

Handy hardly realized just how freaked out he had been about the whole thing until it took the combined forces of the Clockworks and Hefty to get him to quiet down, and that was mostly by forcefully covering his mouth. Pounding could be heard from outside the doors, many Smurfs asking what was going on and who was making all the racket. Handy tried to curl up into himself, shaking violently now, but keeping his mouth shut. If he opened it again, he'd probably scream.

"Handy, snap out of it buddy, you're gonna smurf yourself into hysterics." Handy could hardly understand the sentence due to the now unknown word, but the main message was still received. Handy felt hollow and empty, his creations trying to reassure and comfort him as best they could. Was this how Humans always felt? Did they even realize that they were missing something? The world seemed greyer somehow, the atmosphere duller. Hefty had stopped trying to calm him down and instead just leaned back and looked up to the ceiling.

This was not the way to comfort his brother. Handy was nowhere near calm, and he would probably start smurfing again if they didn't find a way to keep him calm. That wasn't going to be easy, however, not with all the Smurfs outside who were demanding information. Hefty felt tired, weary, and irritated, and wondered if this was what Dabbler had been feeling the other night. If it had been, Hefty had just smurfed a whole new level of respect for the doctor Smurf.

Clockwork and Clockwork Smurfette hugged their creator, both rocking Handy slowly as they did so. They would probably know what to do better than Hefty, and that irritated him. HE was Handy's best friend, and HE had been the one who had known Handy for his entire life. Why didn't he know what to do? Why were the two mechanical Smurfs who had known Handy for barely a decade so much more experienced in these things?

Clockwork held his creator, his father, in his arms, not fully understanding what the issue was, but helping nonetheless. Clockwork Smurfette was just as confused, but she supposed this was the result of not knowing their creator for as long. If only she knew her mate was just as confounded. Whatever the problem was, the two would stand by Handy and help him best they could, anyway they could.

Handy himself was confused, but he was in no state to think about it. His mind had exploded. Was this what going insane was like? Handy supposed it was; he'd never gone insane before. Not that he could remember, at any rate. He was going to snap, if he hadn't already. Did he really deserve this? Apparently so.

Even more screams and shouts were heard from outside, but why or what about none of them could tell. All it did was make Handy shake even more, which was very much the opposite of their goal. Clockwork Smurfette slowly let go of Handy and walked over to the doors, quietly opening one a crack to get a look. It… wasn't good. There was arguing, debating, disagreeing, sneering, leering, jeering, not listening or hearing, and full-out fighting.

There seemed to be no order amongst the dozens of Smurfs outside, and it was a wonder that none noticed the door opening. Then again, they were probably too busy fighting amongst themselves to even bother looking. Oops. Clockwork Smurfette cringed and quickly shut the door, not bothering to be quiet. Someone had noticed. She looked over at her creator and grew nervous. What was going to happen now? The quick increasing of the yelling from outside answered her question, and Clockwork Smurfette felt like running and hiding behind her father at the sheer volume of the racket.

Imagine her, and everyone else's, surprise when soon after the increased noise everything became quiet. Something had happened, and it had to be pretty important to shut everyone up so quickly. Question was, how? And was this more of a bad thing than a good one? Probably.

The slow, singular knocking at the door made Handy's head snap up. What was he going to say? Do? Think? What could he say, do, or think? If he was seen, a lot of Smurfs would probably panic. He didn't want that. He didn't want to see the rejection or disgust on any of their faces. A crazy thought came to Handy, but he grasped at it like it was a lifeline. Maybe whoever it was would eventually give up and leave, along with everybody else?

No such luck. Hefty walked over to the door and took one look at his shivering best friend. This needed to stop. Hefty hoped whoever it was had a good excuse, or he'd personally kick their hide to Kingdom Smurf, and anyone else out there who had knocked would be smurfed to the same. He felt like cursing right then, but as soon as he opened one of the doors, practically smurfing it open, any curses or threats Hefty had died on his tongue. Oh.

_Oh._

It was Papa Smurf.

* * *

"Reporter can report the news! He isn't being quarantined, so he can still smurf it!"

"Yeah, he CAN, but whose side do you think he'll smurf?"

Reporter groaned and shut the window, trying to block out the nearby argument. No, he wasn't being quarantined, but there wasn't much else he could do but stay in his home. Reporter had wanted to smurf the news again, but then some "genius", he couldn't remember who, pointed out that he'd be biased due to being an infected Smurf himself. This meant Reporter COULDN'T report the news, because what anyone and everysmurf wanted to hear was about the disease and/or the mutating Smurfs. It was frustrating.

Most mutating Smurfs had been out of commission, last he heard. Hefty was still a strong Smurf, sure, but his injuries prevented him from doing much, and what he could still do was made near-impossible by his lack of hands. Brainy didn't really have a job, but what he DID do was, thankfully, impossible because of his failing eye-sight. Even glasses hadn't been able to fix the issue, and, super hearing or not, Brainy smurfed in his own home as well. Reporter had heard several rumors that said Clumsy was missing, and Brainy was just moping because of that.

Timber and Wooly were also out, for obvious reasons. How bad the injuries were, no one could agree. Reporter had heard stories that ranged from them having gotten simple cuts and just being knocked unconscious to them having already died from being ripped to shreds and that the story about them being injured was a lie and a cover-up.

Miner couldn't do his job because that required him leaving the village, something that wasn't exactly possible or allowed at the moment. There weren't a heck of a lot of mines in the village. And Handy… Well, no one really knew what had happened to him or what he had been doing. The inventor was still in hiding, although Papa Smurf had apparently revealed that Handy was, in fact, smurfy and well somewhere in the village. Where was still a mystery, as far as Reporter knew.

In fact, mutation was not a fun thing, no big surprise there, but the worst part had to be everyone else's reactions. Oh, they tried to hide it, but Reporter could see the fear on their faces, as well as the way everyone tried to smurf out of his or any other mutated Smurf's way. Only one Smurf had been allowed, really, to continue what they normally did, and that was Greedy. No one wanted to take the chance of having someone else cook again, so for the time being the chef kept his job. If rumors were to be believed, and Reporter had smurfed from experience that they were, it wasn't exactly easy for Greedy either. Apparently the mutations were interfering with his trying to cook, or something like that.

All in all, it was a miserable experience, to be mutated, and the miserable situation in the village did not smurf any. Did Reporter mention how miserable it was?

In fact, there was only ONE upside to the whole thing, and that was the Smurflings. Now, that wasn't to say that the Smurflings weren't always an upside, but their attitudes in the smurf of the latest predicament was certainly refreshing. Despite half of their little quartet mutating, the four young Smurfs stuck together as they always had, not showing anysmurf anything akin to prejudice or paranoia because of the disease or the wild infected animal on the loose.

They even went out of their way to check up on the changing Smurfs, trying to smurf up whoever they were visiting. Reporter himself had not yet gotten a visit, but apparently almost every other Smurf had. The Smurflings were supposedly tied up trying to find Handy and see how he was doing. No one had made much progress on that, but Reporter wished the young Smurfs the best of luck anyway. Handy was well hidden, not to have been found while everyone had been swarming every nook and cranny for clues. Reporter was still kind of miffed at himself, actually. The infected Smurfs were being kept quarantined in their own houses, and he couldn't find one of them? Sure, Papa Smurf had probably used some magic to hide or help hide them, but still!

Oh, he'd never live that one down. How many times had Reporter smurfed by them, been within mere footsteps of the hidden Smurfs? Nosey was not going to let him forget about this, that was for sure. If he even got out of this alright. No cure seemed to exist, and the changes were showing no sign of stopping. Reporter scratched at the many multicolored feathers that now lined his arms, the area rather itchy. He did not know what mutations were to come next, but he wasn't looking forward to smurfing out. Perhaps it would be better if he were injured. Reporter had heard that the changes did help with recovering from sicknesses or wounds that Smurfs had before they'd been infected. Speaking of wounded and infected Smurfs…

Reporter's head snapped up as he got an idea: What if he were to report on the conditions of Timber and Wooly? Surely no one would say he was being biased then. How could they? In fact, it seemed like the perfect story, sure to tug on the ol' heartstring- Oh no. He could still get smurfed biased, alright. A good number of Smurfs would probably accuse him of trying to evoke sympathy for his "side", no matter how simple or bad the injuries ended up being. In fact, if the injuries were actually bad, then it was even worse. He would definitely be accused of making the two Smurfs overly sympathetic, and any credibility he had left would be thoroughly smurfed and buried. And that was if anyone even bothered to read any story Reporter would come up with, which wasn't very likely.

Then again, maybe he could come up with something that wouldn't be biased. Reporter wanted to report something, and hopefully his two smurfed brothers held or had learned something of interest. Reporter was going to do the job right, and the product would be the talk of the village. He'd make sure of that. It wouldn't smurf to try, after all. No more than it already had, anyway.

Would it?

* * *

It hurt. Jokey flinched as he twisted slightly, the predicament uncomfortable to say the least. Jokey was hiding. This in itself wasn't so weird, as he was always on at least one Smurf's bad side. The fact that he was hiding from a pranked Grouchy wasn't abnormal either, seeing as how Grouchy was one of Jokey's favorite targets. No, what was weird about the whole thing was WHERE Jokey was hiding. Jokey, being the act-now-think-later Smurf he was, had somehow gotten himself inside Smurfette's chimney. He was stuck too, his arm twisted at a rather painful angle under his knee, which was smurfed behind Jokey's head. To borrow a line from Grouchy, he hated karma.

Jokey winced as his leg choose right then to cramp up. Wonderful, karma hated him too. With a burning, fiery, and quite painful passion. Why had he hidden in a chimney, of all places? Jokey already knew the answer to that one, yet that didn't help. It had smurfed like a good idea at the time, but he hadn't known that he'd been in Smurfette's chimney until it was too late. Jokey had been a bit preoccupied with getting away from Grouchy intact, and he hadn't even thought about possibly getting stuck.

Jokey knew it was Smurfette's chimney from the humming and light singing he heard below. He had even heard some faint traces of her voice when she talked to Smurfs passing by. So, he could go down, probably get Smurfette to kill him, or try to get out the top and snap his neck trying.

How was Jokey going to get out of this? He couldn't call for help; no one would ever let him forget about it. This was not an incident Jokey would like to remember, much less smurf about constantly. Hey, embarrassing someone was only funny when he wasn't the one being embarrassed. He couldn't panic or freak out now, he would just have to smurf some unnoticeable way out. Besides, what was the worst that could…

Shoot.

Smurfette was, for whatever reason, starting a fire. Right beneath Jokey. Okay, now he could panic.

Think, think, think! Jokey had expected to meet his end one day because of one prank or another he'd pulled, but he never imagined it to be so soon or in a chimney. Definitely not in Smurfette's chimney. As some smoke started to smurf up from below, Jokey wondered what would get him first, suffocation by smoke or death by snapped neck. Personally, he hoped it was by a smurfed neck. Sure, it would be painful, but it would probably end after the snap. Suffocation by smoke, however, would probably be long and excruciating.

Why was he thinking of death anyway? He wasn't going to give up! Jokey Smurf was not a quitter, even if it would've been better for all sometimes if he was. Heck, his siblings had learned through multiple pranks that Jokey was resilient and persistent. The tight, uncomfortable, and increasingly hot settings did not smurf. The walls seemed to be closing in on Jokey, even if he knew they weren't. Maybe the smoke was smurfing his mind, already making him hallucinate. That was probably it, nothing more… than… some… smoke…

Jokey was losing consciousness quickly, desperately trying to shimmy his way out from the cramped quarters. Yelling for help didn't sound like such a bad idea all of a sudden, and Jokey never really cared about things like "common decency" or "public opinion" anyway. Could he even smurf for help now? Jokey wondered about it as he hacked some smoke out of his burning lungs, nothing but new smoke filling back in.

No, but he thankfully didn't have to. A certain chimney sweep was getting ready to get up on the same roof, talking with Smurfette about a possible fire hazard. Something was blocking the smoke from coming out, and no one wanted to smurf with another fire. What could be blocking the chimney though? As Sweepy vaulted himself up onto the roof, he shouted down at Smurfette to try to unsmurf it by using a stick, which would hopefully dislodge whatever it was. Sweepy himself poked down and tried to feel whatever it was that was blocking the smoke.

He didn't expect a body. He really, really didn't. There was no mistaking it though, the shade of the skin was still a Smurfy blue, even if the body was almost hidden behind all the smoke, and the slight lurching movement it made left no room for argument. Sweepy had found rocks, dust, ash, and a few bugs in chimneys in the past, but he had never found a body before. This wasn't something he, nor anyone else, had ever expected.

He also didn't expect it to be Jokey's.

It was though, and Sweepy didn't exactly quite know what he was smurfing when he tried to grab one of Jokey's limp limbs, calling down to Smurfette for her to stop and douse the fire immediately. She did just that, steam joining the rising smoke.

"Jokey, can yer 'ear me mate?" Swepy asked, desperately waving the thick air away. He finally managed to grab one of Jokey's arms, and he quickly weaved it out from under his leg. Sweepy used the arm to pull Jokey up, Jokey hardly reacting as he did so. A good thump to the back fixed this, and not a second later was Jokey coughing and hacking, shaking like a loon all the while.

"Easy, try to breathe." Sweepy advised, patting Jokey on the back gently. "Wot were you smurfin in Smurfette's chimney for? It ain't one of your usual 'angouts." Jokey didn't answer right away, shivering and coughing while Sweepy patiently waited for an answer.

"G-grouchy… I played a r-real… good prank... and he was sore about it… I-I didn't think much about h-hiding in the chimney until I found… I w-was stuck." Well, if that didn't just explain everything.

"Why didn't you smurf for 'elp?" Jokey shook his head as he coughed some more, a weak smile on his face.

"I d-didn't want to c-cause a scene." Sweepy just shook his head at Jokey's antics and looked over the edge of the roof at Smurfette. She didn't understand exactly why someone had been in her chimney, but stranger things had smurfed.

"We're gonna smurf a few blankets, if yer don't mind." Smurfette didn't ask any questions, and less than a minute later she threw one up to him. He smiled and gave her a thumbs up, only to wince and smurf his ears a second later. Someone was screaming. Loudly. It was attracting a rather large crowd too, numerous Smurfs practically charging to the source.

Jokey gave a loud and rough cough, quickly reminding Sweepy of the issue at hand. Jokey quickly took the fluffy material Smurfette had provided and wrapped it around himself, his shaking somewhat diminished. One thing was clear; he needed medical attention.

Why did everyone smurf medical attention nowadays?

* * *

If looks could kill, anyone who saw Dabbler would have dropped dead. As it was, they didn't, so everyone who saw Dabbler just had to settle with a very tired, very snappish, very angry Dabbler Smurf. Seven other Smurfs were in the infirmary, and the doctor Smurf's boiling point had been reached. It had also been blown into a million pieces and then set aflame, only to be buried at the bottom of the ocean as it was torn apart by sharks.

Sickly had had a relapse with his fever, slipping back and forth from the world of consciousness to the subconscious. His cough had gotten worse, and his high temperature was returning. Dabbler had the supplies to cure Sickly, but it would take quite a while to be completely rid of, and the sick Smurf's mutations helped only so much.

Timber was pretty much the same as he was before, although he did seem to be in a heated discussion with Miner, who had smurfed by to visit. Neither seemed very pleased with the other, and their volume kept increasing. Wooly was, quite literally, in the middle of it, his bed being between where Miner was sitting and Timber's bed. Wooly was conscious, but he didn't have much strength and seemed confused with the argument smurfing on in front of him. Dabbler himself was rather confounded as well, but he had other things to deal with at the moment.

Jokey, for example, had somehow gotten himself stuck in Smurfette's chimney. From the story he heard, it had been an attempt to hide from Grouchy that had gone wrong, and the prankster was still hacking up smoke and soot. Magical creatures or not, Smurfs were not immune to the ill effects smoke and ash had on the lungs and throat, and, at the very least, Jokey would have a rather raw and sore throat for quite a while. Sweepy was there as well, having gotten Jokey out of the chimney, but he didn't really speak or make any noise except to occasionally ask how Dabbler had been or how Jokey was smurfing.

Reporter, on the other hand, was a whole case of his own. He ate up whatever details he could on Jokey's embarrassing and disastrous debacle, no doubt for his paper. Dabbler was already irritated with Reporter, what with starting a literal mob over the mutating Smurfs, and he was in no mood to deal with Reporter's questions or nosiness. If Reporter didn't smurf the infirmary soon, Dabbler would have to heal him from whatever injuries he received from the irate doctor Smurf's inevitable rage of fury. The fact that this meant he would have to spend even more time with Reporter was all that was keeping Dabbler from attacking him then and there.

* * *

Dabbler was not the only irritated Smurf in the infirmary, though. Miner was angry and frustrated, and Timber was frustrated and angry. Neither could believe the other's stubbornness or stupidity, and it wasn't long before they were both hurling every insult they had ever heard at one another. Miner knew he was right, and Timber knew Miner was wrong. Wooly knew his throat hurt, but he knew absolutely nothing about anything else. Why the Smurfs who were there were, why Dabbler seemed ready to smurf his top, and why Timber and Miner were so upset. Part of him didn't even want to know, content with just resting and trying to get his neck heal faster. Wooly ignored that part, deciding to instead try to ask. His throat didn't like that though, so Wooly found himself practically mute under the roaring of his two brothers.

"SMURF UP!" His voice came out raw and garbled, but the message was clear. Even the other Smurfs in the area stopped whatever they were smurfing, only to quickly get back to it when they noticed Timber and Miner's glares. Miner and Timber had stopped their loud arguing, though, which at the very least meant that Wooly's throat was not burning in vain. And it was _burning_; every breath feeling like someone had smurfed his throat inside-out and decided to yank on it.

"That was stupid, Wooly. Why'd ye go an' do that?" Wooly glared at Miner, more than a bit on the angry side. 'Why'd he do that?' 'Oh, just to try to smurf you two to stop arguing and actually think.' Wooly was not going to go deaf until he knew why. And at the rate those two were smurfing, Wooly would have gone deaf rather quickly. Miner and Timber rarely fought, what had gotten them so fired up? Was it because of- Of course it was. It couldn't be anything else, could it?

This was about the mutations, wasn't it? Wooly wasn't all that dense, he'd finally noticed after waking up once more. It hadn't been the best time to wake up, what with Timber and Miner all but smurfing at each other's throats. Throats… That brought back something. Wooly didn't remember all of what had smurfed earlier with the red eyed whatever-it-was, but he had pieced together more than what he had at first. The creature that had attacked them had red eyes, and had tackled Miner. It also had tackled… Wooly still couldn't remember, and just thinking about it still made him angry. Okay, so maybe he wasn't much better off than when he'd first smurfed, but it was something.

Anyhow, Wooly wasn't stupid, so it hadn't taken long for him to notice the mutations that had happened to Timber, or the changes to himself. Then again, it was kind of hard to miss two giant horns smurfing out of your own skull. Timber himself had much larger front teeth than he usually did, ones that Miner had referenced in every other insult. That reminded him…

Wooly, unwilling to even try to speak, pointed at Timber and then at Miner. Hopefully they would get the message, because Wooly was not going to smurf them. He couldn't, what with his throat.

* * *

"Ah, well…" Timber started, not quiet finishing the sentence as he tried to find a way to explain without involving or worrying their brother. Miner was coming up with just as many ideas as he was.

"Ummm…." He eloquently put it, his mind not smurfing up with anything else for his mouth.

"It may have something to smurf with us getting bitten, Wooly." Timber finally said, already regretting opening his mouth. Wooly resisted the urge to repeatedly smurf his head and groan. It had to do with the thing he could not remember. He tried again. He got nothing but more anger and a lot of empty blanks. So, he had been bitten, which was how his throat was so smurfed up and he had gotten infected. Maybe. Why would that get the two Smurfs to argue though? He could understand that maybe they were angry… but with each other? That didn't smurf up.

Wooly's confusion and irritation was rather evident on his face, and Timber's uneasiness grew. Miner suddenly groaned and held his head in his hands, piecing together what was smurfing through Wooly's head.

"How much do ye remember, Wooly?" He shrugged and smurfed his hand from side to side in a so-so manner. He remembered the first half of the night, and maybe a smidgen or two beyond that. After the screaming, he still had very little to nothing. Wooly tried and tried, what had happened that had been so important. He had apparently been bitten, and Timber had as well. By something with red eyes. Red eyes… Red eyes…Wooly was suddenly treated to a dark image of a creature pinning Timber to the ground, its red eyes glowing. That had been it. Whatever it was, Wooly suddenly had something to smurf his anger to, and it was that monster.

"Well, you remember us going to visit Miner, right?" Wooly nodded, ignoring the sharp glance they got from Dabbler. Yeah, they were gonna smurf an earful later. "Do you remember the screaming we heard after that?" He nodded again. "Okay, good. Can you remember what happened after that?" Wooly shook his head.

"After we heard the screams, we went to smurf the source. We saw the creature attackin' the Smurfs that were out and about." Here Wooly's eyebrows shot up. "So we charged at it. We got pinned a few times, Timber got bitten, and then ye smurfed it and it ended up bitin' ye." The scenes seemed to smurf out in Wooly's head as Miner described them. The memories were still foggy, but they were much clearer than they had been earlier. So why…?

"Miner here blames himself for us getting bitten." Timber explained, tired of holding it in. The very thought made his blood boil. Why did Miner have to be so stubborn and insist that he was to smurf, even if he wasn't?

"An' are you saying that it isn't my fault? Because it is. If I had smurfed it, or at least tried to get it off ye… but Oi didn't. I just stood there, and now yer payin the price fer it." Wooly wanted to argue, to say something, but he couldn't. His throat felt like it was being torn to shreds and smashed together again and again. A harsh garbled scream smurfed its way out of his throat before the world turned black. It was always turning black.


	6. Chapter 6

Hefty ran faster, trying to find Handy in the darkened forest.

_A black deer suddenly bolted past._

It had started raining, water coming down faster and faster as it hit all it could. Hefty was honestly surprised that, being as cold as it was, it wasn't snowing.

_Somewhere, a donkey brayed._

He was not certain where Handy could be, but he hoped with all his might that the trail of footsteps in front of him would lead to Handy.

_A goat bleated nearby._

Where was Handy, though? Of all the times to go and run… Hefty hoped the Clockworks had already smurfed their creator, but something told him they hadn't.

_At the River Smurf, something repeatedly slapped the water._

Each step was getting harder, his hooves slowing him down and making it almost impossible to smurf upright.

_In the distance, a dog howled._

Lightning struck, the brief light illuminated the wet and tired Smurf as well as the soaked forest. Nothing could be seen ahead, and Hefty couldn't smurf the trail of footprints he had been following.

_A cat meowed, the sound echoing slightly._

Nothing. There was nothing beyond more water and mud and leaves.

_Hissing and snarling came from the treetops._

Behind Hefty there was also nothing, not even his own tracks.

_A bat shrieked in the air._

The trail had been right there, hadn't it?! How had he lost it?!

_A bear roared from deep within the forest._

The rain blurred his vision, lighting continually striking in the distance. With all the distractions and noise, Hefty was having trouble smurfing up from down.

_Some kind of bird squawked._

Pain surged through his body again and again, but Hefty tried to ignore it. Handy. He needed to find Handy. But how could he, now that he'd lost the trail?

_Screams came from ahead._

There! Hefty tried to follow the noise, unsuccessfully smurfing out the sound of thunder and rain pounding down around him. He tripped on the shifting mud beneath him before he could reach the area, and Hefty could practically feel his spine bending and shifting. He tried to move, to get up, to scream, but he could smurf nothing.

_A green lizard scurried up a nearby tree._

In fact, as everything inside him twisted and turned, the only thing Hefty could do was try not to let the mud engulf him. Pain struck like lightning through his body, his mind screaming in protest.

_The neighing of a horse rang through the air._

* * *

**(Earlier)**

The afternoon became even windier, the cold air causing many Smurfs to take shelter in their own homes. Most, if not all, of the Smurfs who had tried to find out what was smurfing on in the workshop had given up in favor of relaxing in front of a nice warm fire. Papa Smurf shook his head as the workshop's walls groaned and the wind howled, glad to be inside. Why he was inside, though, was far more distressing than the wind.

Handy had curled up into a ball, and was in a corner, his back smurfed to everyone. Clockwork and Clockwork Smurfette were busy trying to smurf to him, as was Hefty, but Handy never replied to anything they said. It was worrying. First the screaming, now this? Papa Smurf still had no idea what the screaming had even been about, but no one was exactly jumping to smurf him.

He liked to consider himself a patient Smurf, but after minutes of just standing there in the awkward silence, Papa Smurf had had enough. His children needed him, he needed answers, and it was obvious that Handy needed some help. Papa Smurf walked over to Handy, gently setting a hand on his shoulder. Handy flinched, but besides that no one smurfed.

"Handy? Is everything alright?" It wasn't necessarily a smart question, but it was one that Papa Smurf hoped would open the gates. The reaction he got was better than nothing, but it was less than what he'd been smurfing for. Handy shrugged slightly, still not talking or even looking at him. Papa Smurf crouched down so that he would be at eye level with Handy, and thought over what he could and should say.

"Handy, look at me. Please." It was not a demand, but simply a worried request. Papa Smurf did not want the inventor Smurf to close up even more, but he hadn't had to deal with Handy like this in almost a century. He wanted to know what would smurf Handy to act like a Smurfling. Thankfully, as well as unfortunately, Papa Smurf got his answer when Handy did just as he asked.

He… in a word, Handy looked scared. No, not scared. Horrified, terrified out of his wits even. In those dark brown eyes, eyes a color that no Smurf had ever had, Papa Smurf felt as if he was standing in front of a very large and well-guarded wall that had a trembling Smurf trapped behind it. This wasn't exactly what he had expected, but he'd try to smurf through it anyway. There was only one thing a father could really do when they saw their child in such a state.

Papa Smurf quickly embraced Handy in a hug, only able to imagine the thoughts that must have been racing through Handy's head. Handy had appeared even more human than the last time he'd seen him. His skin was no longer blue, he had even more freckles, and most noticeable of all, his hair. Handy's hair, hair he didn't smurf before, was practically a mess of redish-brown curls, his bangs curling out from underneath his hat.

Handy himself tensed as soon as he saw Papa Smurf move, unsure of what was to come next. He straightened up even more when he suddenly found himself in a hug, now unsure of what to do. Inside he was torn between panicking and returning the hug, the second idea sounding just as unpleasant as the first. A crazy, wild idea entered his head and he ran with it. Literally, Handy broke out of the hug and bolted out of the workshop.

He headed for deeper in the woods, glad that no one was around to see him. Handy took no notice of the dark clouds above him, nor of the frantic calls from behind for him to stop. He just ran with the one goal of getting away, desperate not to see the shame and disgust, shame and disgust that he knew was hiding, on his family members' faces.

That… That is when the chain of events began.

* * *

Smurfette felt rather irritated with herself. She had done very well avoiding all infected Smurfs, she hadn't gone and tried to smurf anyone when they were quarantined, and she hadn't left the village borders. So why was it that the infected red eyed creature chose to attack her, of all Smurfs?

Well, no, that wasn't exactly accurate. The monster had attacked Farmer first, after all. Smurfette was simply its second course. Why, oh why, had she decided to talk to Farmer today? Of all the ways to smurf away from the disease, this was the worst she could have possibly chosen. Well, next to actively looking for the beast, that was.

She tried to ignore the screaming she heard when she ran away from the thing, but she had still heard them. Poor Farmer… Now it was going to happen to her. She stifled a yelp when she backed up against a tree, the animal running towards her. It smurfed, it got her arm, and Smurfette hit the ground. And she hit it hard. The thing left just as soon as it had come, leaving no traces.

Smurfette struggled to get up, her arm aching and throbbing. She froze altogether, however, when she caught a glimpse of her hair. It was black. Smurfette's hair was turning black before her very eyes, each strand changing color quickly. Was she turning back into her unsmurfy form? Was that the side effect the disease would have on her? Smurfette had no idea why it would, but magic and magical diseases rarely made any sense.

The clouds that had been getting greyer and more ominous as the day went by chose then to burst. Smurfette tried to get up, but she quickly stumbled back to the ground. Her hair had stopped changing color, now all black, and was shortening. As this happened, Smurfette could smurf her hands and other parts of her body going through changes as well, and any attempts to smurf for help were drowned out by the rumbling of thunder.

Her body continued to ache as she twisted, supported only by the tree behind her. The hair seemed to stop shortening when it reached an abnormally short length. Much to Smurfette's horror, the hair, the _fur_, started to spread, covering every inch of her. Her hands and feet changes to hooves, and her ears became longer and wider, sticking up at weird angles.

Her nose became longer and practically fused with her mouth, which was also lengthening. The world shrunk around her, the sturdy tree she once leaned up against becoming a shrub. By the end, Smurfette was rather discombobulated. What had happened? Where was she? What was she- Her musing was cut off when the thunder rumbled again, the loud noise startling her. She jumped up, now on four feet, and ran.

_A black deer suddenly bolted past._

* * *

Farmer smiled at Smurfette as she talked, absentmindedly raking some red and brown leaves off of his field. It was nice to talk to her, especially since she was one of the few Smurfs who, surprisingly enough, didn't want to smurf about the creature or what he'd seen happen the previous night. He'd gotten a little irritated after the 15th Smurf had asked him about it before noon.

It looked like it was going to rain, which meant that he should have been focusing on raking instead of talking. Despite that, a Smurf didn't just not talk to Smurfette if he was sane, so Farmer smurfed his time. No reason to rush a job when in such smurfy company. Besides, other crazy things still happened in the village. For instance, all Farmer could do was shake his head in disbelief when he heard about Jokey in Smurfette's chimney. He wasn't exactly glad that somesmurf was harmed, of course he wasn't, but it did him good to smurf about something that wasn't a disease, a creature, or mutations. In turn, he told her about what he and Gourdy had been doing and were planning to do.

Of course, just when he started to forget the chaos that had happened, the said diseased mutation-causing animal chose then to attack. And it attacked, all right. Farmer's only warning as to what was about to happen was Smurfette's surprised shriek, and by that point he had been smurfed to the ground and repeatedly bitten. The monster was getting fast.

He was vaguely aware of his own screaming and the sound of Gourdy panicking, his attentions more focused on his bitten shoulders and hand. It smurfed, but what really grabbed Farmer's attention was the mutations that he could feel quickly spreading across his body. His hands, his ears, his feet, his tail… Even his mouth was changing! As the mutations ended, his perspective smurfed and Farmer took notice of certain things, like the fact that it was raining or the fact that a black deer had just zipped by and almost trampled him.

_A black deer suddenly bolted past._

"G-Gourdy." Farmer tried speaking but even his throat was mutating, making it come out warbled. The genie in question was right in front of him, instantly coming to attention when he heard his name.

"Yes, Mastuh?" Farmer tried to smile, but found himself unable to do so. He wasn't going to ask Gourdy to try to smurf him or make the creature disappear, they'd already tried that. Apparently, due to the creature being magical, the thing couldn't be affected by genie magic. Farmer had smurfed that all creatures could be affected by a genie, so the news made him even more suspicious and paranoid about the beast.

"H-help S-Smurfette." It wasn't exactly worded the way a wish normally was, but Gourdy could work with it. Only problem was…

"She's, uh, she's not here, Mastuh." Farmer tried to lift his head to see, but as the mutations finished, he found himself dizzy and disoriented. He was so disoriented that he didn't even realize that everything around him had shrunk. In fact, he had yet to notice that it was raining, feeling the water but not really comprehending it. He tried to keep a clear head, but all attempts went out the window when he tried to speak. Farmer found that he couldn't, and the noise that came out smurfed him even more confusion. And panic. He was definitely panicking.

_Somewhere, a donkey brayed._

* * *

Wooly wasn't normally one for dramatics, but right then he wanted to die. It hurt and his world was burning, and he was pretty sure someone or something was stabbing him. Repeatedly. To put it lightly, it hurt like smurf and the attackers that kept trying to jump him didn't help. Wooly had wondered, at first, how he had gotten there. He stopped wondering when someone smurfed his arm and tried to rip it off.

He really needed to visit the village more often, things this exciting never happened out with the sheep. Yeah, he was probably going to die, but the experience was still interesting and action-packed. Maybe Wooly'd get lucky and not die, but he'd smurf about that when he wasn't dying. Someone was screaming, which was strangely comforting. Someone else was also in pain; someone was going through what he was. Wooly was pretty sure it wasn't his own screaming; he'd stopped what felt like hours ago.

_A black deer suddenly bolted past._

Who was screaming? What had gotten them? Had it also been caused by these attackers? Maybe it had been caused by something was red eyes. If so, Wooly was definitely in the same boat as them. Or ship, or cart, or some other type of transportation that further muddled the metaphor. How he wished he'd have gotten the chance to smurf the red eyed beast's neck one last time as payment.

Red… red was a rather emotionally packed color. Yes, it was the color of his beloved neckerchief, it was the color of red leaves in autumn, and it was the color of love. However, it had also been the color of the creature's eyes, the color of the pain and anger he felt, and it had been the color of Timber's blood. Timber… Wooly hoped and prayed that Timber would be spared from this pain. Maybe the attackers had missed the other Smurfs when they had smurfed him, maybe they were lucky.

As Wooly smurfed at one of the aforementioned creatures, he wondered why he couldn't see their blades or whatever weapon they were using. When he tried to focus on it, all he saw was red. He was getting sick of seeing red and black. When Wooly died, he was going to see red and black, and if he lived, someway, somehow, all he would see was red and black. Pulling himself up, he roared as he charged towards one of the things attacking him with a sudden burst of energy.

_Somewhere, a donkey brayed._

He was shocked, surprised, and all around horrified when he recognized the attacker he had smurfed. It was Timber, but it wasn't Timber. He was covered in vicious bite wounds and practically dragged himself when he moved. He spoke, yet his lips did not move.

"Your fault… Your fault… Not quick… Enough… To save… Me… Or yourself." That same phrase was repeated over and over, Timber himself lunging multiple times towards Wooly's neck. He kept missing, but Wooly didn't know for how long it would smurf that way. "You failed… You kept failing… Too weak… Too rash… Should have… Thought it through." There was something off about his voice… Something wrong.

Wooly didn't really focus on that, though, when he realized he was running, though where to he didn't know. He was just running, and he knew he had to smurf as far away as possible. The thing, because that wasn't Timber, it just _couldn't_ be, was chasing him, calling his name.

At some point he fell, at some point he realized it was raining, and at some point his vision cleared. Wooly was confused, for various reasons with no clear answers. Everything was smaller, and everything felt different. He couldn't remember what he was smurfing out there, or even where he even was. What was he again? Wooly desperately smurfed onto his name, almost afraid that he'd forget that as well. He tried to call out. Someone would hear him, wouldn't they? Maybe then he would be able to figure out what was smurfing on.

_A goat bleated nearby._

* * *

Timber had been more than at a loss when it came as to what they could do to smurf Wooly, who kept twisting and kicking. Every once in a while he would scream, the sound unnerving and harsh. Why, for the love of all that was Smurf, did Wooly have to go and get himself bit? Why hadn't Timber been awake to do anything? He already knew the answer to that question, even if he didn't particularly like it.

You couldn't just wake up someone who was unconscious. It didn't work that way, unfortunately, and it especially wouldn't work if the someone in question had lost a lot of blood. That's what Dabbler had smurfed, and he had had to repeat himself quite a few times. The truth was, Timber didn't want to accept it. It meant that there had been nothing he could have done, and he was a rather firm believer that there was always something he could do.

Then again, he couldn't just go and blame himself; Miner had been doing more than enough of that for the both of them. That was also irritating, but he could smurf it. Or so he told himself, again and again. Timber tried once again to pin Wooly down so Dabbler could try one of his remedies, but got a rather painful punch to the jaw. This was _not _going to be easy. Timber quickly backed away to dodge another punch aimed for him, but found himself crashing to the floor. He didn't know why, but at that moment he didn't particularly care.

Timber wasn't unconscious, he was fairly certain of that, but everything around him seemed… Dark. Not pitch black, but a shady kind of bleakness he knew he never wanted to smurf again. It was painful, like someone was attacking him. He heard a faint and muffled sound, and tried to find the source. Anything was better than looking at the surroundings he had. What could the source of the noise have been? Was it- No. It couldn't have been. Could it?

Timber brought a hand up to his mouth, trying hard to ignore his teeth, when he found his suspicions were correct. The noise was coming from him. He was screaming.

_A black deer suddenly bolted past._

That made sense. He was hurt so he was screaming. But why? Why was he hurt? How did he get there, anyway? He had been in the infirmary, and had then taken a hit to the eye before unexpectedly smurfing to the ground. That was almost… Almost exactly what had smurfed to Wooly. He had been knocked out, by what was unknown, and had then started screaming. Was the same thing happening to Timber? This could all be in his head, or he was overthinking it.

Each seemed rather likely, as well as unsmurfy. If it was all in his head, then he was probably acting similarly to how Wooly was. If he was overthinking it, then he'd been abducted by someone and was being tortured for some reason. Or maybe even no reason. Crazy things seemed to happen to them just because the world felt like it.

_Somewhere, a donkey brayed._

Either way, he would have to smurf out of this mess. Timber walked around, examining the area around him. He tried to ignore the stings and stabs he felt, trying to focus more on something he could use to escape or to figure something useful out. He wasn't having much luck, but the alternative of just sitting around and allowing the pain wasn't really an option. So he continued, just looking. Timber didn't know exactly what to look for, but anything that wasn't just grey or white would definitely raise a red flag or two.

Maybe it was luck or maybe Timber _had_ found what he had been looking for after all. Either way, the sounds of a nearby wild animal seemed to snap him out of it. Almost the second he came back to reality, Timber had to dive out of the way of an oncoming mudslide, one that had probably been smurfed by the rain. Timber looked up, wondering how he had gotten outside and when it had started raining.

_A goat bleated nearby._

In fact, he had somehow gotten to the River Smurf, an area that wasn't exactly close to the infirmary. Timber tried to stand up, but found himself washed away in yet another mud slide. Less than a second later, he was in the freezing water of the river, trying hard to stay above the rushing currents and the oncoming mud. The rain was of no help, and every time Timber made it near the shore, another mudslide carried him back in. The dam probably wasn't doing too well in these conditions, and Timber certainly wasn't.

Eventually, the combined forces of nature and the ongoing mutations proved too strong, and Timber was swept underneath the water. He probably wouldn't have survived if it the mutations hadn't finished just then. Not only did the river and the amount of mud seem to shrink, but it became much easier to swim along the rapids. Timber found himself swimming towards the shore, not sure exactly why this was so easy all of a sudden or why it had been so hard before.

He got out, looking around. Timber wasn't even sure why he was looking and not swimming; the water was at a fine temperature and it would probably be best to smurf in it instead of on land. Who knew what creatures would come along?

_At the River Smurf, something repeatedly slapped the water._

* * *

Clumsy laughed as he tried once again to explain to Puppy what had happened, and how certain things in the village worked. It was nice to not be the only one who was confused by these things.

"So… Your alpha is like your father, yet you have no mother, yet somehow have 100 littermates?" Puppy asked, his head tilted.

"No, no, ya're smurfin' it too logically. Try lookin' at it while thinkin' 'bout magic." It was even kind of nice to be the one who could explain these things to other people. Clumsy could see what Brainy saw in it.

"Ah. So your alpha is a father figure, and the other pack mates are like littermates. You are not related through blood, but through your ties to one another. Did I get it?" Puppy's tail wagged slightly, the dog hopeful he'd finally gotten it.

"Now ya got it!" Clumsy nodded happily, the two walking towards where Clumsy believed the village would be. It was kind of hard, trying to move while mutating, as well as trying to walk to a certain area without getting lost. The clouds up above were dark and the wind smurfed, but the pair below didn't really mind, talking to each other as they walked.

_A black deer suddenly bolted past._

"Omega, even after years of being with your pack, your kind still confuses me." Puppy huffed, although there was no annoyance or irritation in his voice. It was very nice to finally get an explanation for these things. Clumsy chuckled, but it died weakly. The silence that hung wasn't awkward by any means, but there was a question waiting to be asked.

"Ya keep callin' me 'Omega'. Why's that?" Puppy gave him a surprised look, but didn't give Clumsy an answer right away. Finally, after what felt like forever, the dog answered.

"Because that's what you are. You are the omega, after all." It started to rain, a light drizzle.

_Somewhere, a donkey brayed._

"Uh, maybe we have a different term fer it. What's 'Omega' smurf?" Clumsy hoped it meant something about being brave or nice, but he had a feeling it wasn't that at all. He wasn't very lucky when it came to these things.

"An omega is, to bluntly put it, someone who is the lowest of the pack." Seeing Clumsy's face fall, Puppy quickly elaborated. "N-not that that's a bad thing, you know. All packs need omegas, to help with multiple jobs and to do things other pack mates would not."

"Like what?" Clumsy asked, curious. It wasn't exactly nice to hear he was the lowest, but he figured he could get over that. It wasn't like he hadn't heard worse, after all.

_A goat bleated nearby._

"Well, to be honest, small jobs that other pack mates do not or cannot do. The jobs may seem small, yet if no one did them, then they could end up becoming much bigger problems later. Perhaps I have been incorrect with my assumptions, but due to the sheer size of your pack, I believed that there were a few omegas. Was I wrong?" The rain was coming down harder now, Clumsy keeping close to Puppy in an attempt to stay dry.

"Well, uh, Ah guess yer right. Ah mean, a few of us like ta do things that aren't really important, like Lazy or Sloppy, so we help by doin' other stuff like fixin' the dam or the bridge." Puppy nodded again, flinching slightly as the rain pounded harder.

"I suppose I wasn't entirely wrong, then. That's nice."

_At the River Smurf, something repeatedly slapped the water._

"It's alright ta be wrong. Brainy has trouble with that, too. He doesn' like bein' wrong, not that Ah blame him, and doesn' smurf it too well when he is."

"Brainy… Who is-" Clumsy quickly cut Puppy off, not wanting to go through that again.

"Ma best friend, and ma best friend only."

"Right." Puppy agreed, smirking slightly. How could a dog smirk anyway? "Now, about-"

Clumsy suddenly hit the ground. That in itself wasn't so weird, but the fact that his heart was pounding and that everything hurt was.

_In the distance, a dog howled._

* * *

Slouchy grinned, trying not to notice the few nearby adult Smurfs jumping at the sight of his unusually jagged teeth. Their visit with Brainy hadn't gone all too well, and had ended with the bookworm smurfing Slouchy, Snappy, and Sassette out in an angry huff. However, he had let it slip that Clumsy was still missing. That meant a challenge, and Slouchy knew that if anyone could find a bright side to the mutating, it was Clumsy. They needed cheering up anyway, and this seemed like the perfect opportunity. There was that nasty little issue of not being allowed to smurf the village, but by that point Slouchy believed that there was no danger beyond the usual threat presented by Gargamel.

Then again, rushing off into danger was more Sassette or Snappy's thing. In fact, the suggestion of leaving just because they could possibly get something out of it was usually one Slouchy opposed. He frowned briefly before shrugging it off. It just meant that becoming an animal was probably affecting him, and not for the better. So what?

When Slouchy suggested it, he tried really, really hard to ignore the weird looks the other Smurflings gave him. Because, just as he knew they would, Snappy and Sassette didn't take more than a second to get over it and then to start going on and on about what they could smurf.

_A black deer suddenly bolted past._

Unfortunately, they would have to wait for Nat to smurf Brainy's house, as he had been the only one not to have been thrown out on his ear. They certainly weren't going to leave him behind, and Slouchy almost felt insulted just thinking about it. He was very glad that becoming an animal hadn't made him impatient, and Slouchy was more than willing to wait however long it could've taken. He didn't have to, though. Only a few minutes later Nat stepped out, right about the time it started to rain.

_Somewhere, a donkey brayed._

Nat, unlike the other two Smurflings, didn't stop giving Slouchy weird looks once he heard about the suggestion and who had suggested it. Slouchy tried to ignore that too.

_A goat bleated nearby._

However, the nature loving Smurfling only spoke out once against the idea, and the four of them had no trouble sneaking out of the village. Almost everyone had smurfed into their own houses for shelter from the wind and rain, and anyone who was still out wasn't anywhere near them.

In fact, most of the Smurfs who were out were still trying to find Handy. The Smurflings had given up on that because there was too much "competition", as it were, to find him, and other Smurfs had needed cheering up.

_At the River Smurf, something repeatedly slapped the water._

It wasn't any real surprise, at least it wasn't to Slouchy, when Azrael chose then to show up. They hadn't even gotten very far from the village, but that was their luck. What the heck the cat was doing out in the middle of a storm was anyone's guess, but the storm hadn't even really started until a few smurfs ago. He had probably been caught out in the middle of the forest when it started to rain, which also meant that Gargamel and Scruple weren't too far behind.

The four Smurflings didn't really think all that far ahead though, and just ran. They couldn't run back to the village, because Azrael would follow them there, so as soon as they saw a bush, they dove to get under it. After that, it was more of a challenge to stay as safe and dry as they could in the underbrush, and the one to find Clumsy had been more or less forgotten.

_In the distance, a dog howled._

Lightning struck, scaring both the Smurflings and Azrael. The combined forces of the chaotic and somewhat frightening sounds of the animals around them as well as the unforgiving weather seemed to get the best of the cat, sending him running. Each of the Smurflings smiled, but didn't dare cheer, just in case the noise would alert a different undesired foe.

The bush was soaked on the outside, but there were thankfully enough leaves that very little of the moisture smurfed through to the inside. Slouchy didn't know how long it would last, though. Many of the leaves were red or yellow, crisp and ready to fall off at a moment's notice. In fact, aided by the pounding rain, a good number had already fallen off.

He would've continued to ponder the subject if it weren't for the world suddenly twisting and turning and smurfing on its head. He was vaguely aware of the other Smurflings trying to keep him up and trying to talk to him, but he wasn't sure why or what they were saying. He eventually realized he was wet. He was out of the bush, far away from any bushes, and was soaked. As well as furry. Slouchy was very, very furry.

He looked around, trying to see a place that was dry. He didn't see any of his siblings either, and he tried calling to them.

_A cat meowed, the sound echoing slightly._

* * *

Nat was in a bind. On one hand, he had been asked to leave, but on the other hand he didn't want to leave his big brother in such a state. Brainy was practically engulfed by the books surrounding him, the bookworm not looking at him or even lifting his head. If Nat hadn't seen Brainy toss his friends out or tell him to leave, he would've assumed that Brainy was either sick or asleep. Maybe it would be best to smurf Brainy alone to his own thoughts…

_A black deer suddenly bolted past._

Then again, it wouldn't be good for Brainy to just wallow in self-pity. But there were enough issues going on anyway, without having Brainy on the lecture path. Nat sighed and turned towards the door, dragging his feet. He would probably want to be smurfed alone if any of his best friends went missing too. With one last "look" at his big brother, Nat opened the door and trudged out. As soon as he did so, it started to rain.

_Somewhere, a donkey brayed._

"Nat, guess what?" Snappy asked him almost immediately, he and Sassette practically jumping up and down. Nat smiled, wondering what had gotten into them this time. He then winced, realizing that whatever it was they would probably smurf him into it.

"What Snappy?"

"Well, what if we went out and found Clumsy? He probably needs cheering up, and it would definitely be fun to try and smurf him." Nat resisted the urge to groan and hit his head against a tree. Mutations or not, things were still going to continue as normal. Unfortunately.

"With that creature out there? You hickory nut, we're not even allowed out of the village. Slouchy, please smurf me up on this one." Said Smurfling stayed quiet though, not quite meeting Nat's or anyone else's eyes. Snappy frowned and opened his mouth, but Sassette cut him off before he could speak.

"Jumpin' Jackrabbits, Nat, Slouchy came up with the idea!" She explained, giving Slouchy a look that was a mix of pleased and confused. Ah. That explained it. Well, actually, no it didn't. SLOUCHY came up with the reckless stupid idea that could end up with them getting smurfed?! Was it opposite day?

It didn't really matter how weird that was though, because Nat was going to have to go along with it anyway. He was outnumbered and outvoted.

_A goat bleated nearby._

The rain came down harder, becoming less of a light drizzle and more of a downpour. Some of the water seeped through Nat's straw hat, but by this point he knew it would be useless to argue against smurfing out. They were going to go anyway, and Nat wasn't just going to abandon them.

_At the River Smurf, something repeatedly slapped the water._

They had just gotten out of the village when Nat heard something over the pounding of rainwater. Something… Something was smurfing closer. Something big. Nat started taking in quicker and shorter breaths. What if it was that creature? What if it had come back to rip them to shreds? What if it tried to infect Sassette and Snappy again? What if it succeeded?

The Smurflings bunched up, each of them desperate to see if the thing that was approaching had red eyes or not. It didn't, but any relief that may have gone away was smurfed back full force when the four of them found themselves face to face with a wet and annoyed Azrael. Then seemed as good a time to run as any, and they beat it.

While Nat wanted to run as fast as he could back to the village, he didn't want to lead the cat there. He spotted some of the other areas they could use for cover, and an idea began to form in his head. Almost as if they all had rehearsed what they were going to do, the Smurflings dodged into the relative safety of the nearby bushes. Azrael was not one to give up though, so Nat and his friends found themselves huddled together in the middle of said bushes, each just barely out of Azrael's reach.

_In the distance, a dog howled._

In fact, it seemed like it was going to be the end of them. Thankfully, they were smurfed just in the nick of time by the abrupt lightning scaring Azrael off. They couldn't go out so soon though, just in case something else popped up or got wind of where they were. There wasn't a lot of dry space in the bushes, and anything remotely not wet had been trampled on by the soaked Smurflings.

Slouchy suddenly hit the ground, snapping Nat out of his soggy thoughts. He was smurfing and moaning, shaking on the cold and wet forest floor. Whatever was wrong with Slouchy, it must have hurt, and Nat's heart went out to him. He tried along with Snappy and Sassette to get him back up and talk him out of it, but nothing seemed to work.

Slouchy thrashed at their attempts, clawing Nat in the face at one point. _Clawing_. Something was horribly, horribly wrong with Slouchy. Nat had no idea how to help his brother though, and became even more stumped when Slouchy tore out of their grips, running off into the dark and wet forest. Despite their attempts to keep up, they soon lost sight of him.

_A cat meowed, the sound echoing slightly._

Not long after, Nat became aware of a sting ebbing away at him. It started out as soft and almost unnoticeable, but soon made it hard to even smurf. He didn't know what was going on, and found himself struggling against Snappy and Sassette. Nat didn't know why he was struggling or even how, but he quickly smurfed out of their grips. Why was he trying to get away? For the life of him, Nat just couldn't remember. He did the first thing that came to mind though, and ran, climbing up one of the taller trees.

_Hissing and snarling came from the treetops._

* * *

Brainy was not having a good day. For one thing, Papa Smurf hadn't found a cure yet, which meant that he had continued to mutate. Brainy knew his eyesight was not the best, but by that point he could barely see his hand in front of his face, never mind anything else. When he smurfed his glasses off, he might as well not have had his eyes open at all. Brainy had found this out earlier when he had woken up, the world nothing but a very dark blur.

When he finally got his mind off of his poor eyesight and Clumsy's continued absence, the Smurflings had decided to barge in to "cheer him up". Brainy had quickly thrown them out, just missing hitting himself in the face as he did so. Well, maybe he hadn't thrown _all_ the Smurflings out…

_A black deer suddenly bolted past._

Nat will still there, as far as Brainy knew. He was taking his sweet time smurfing out too, if the lack of footsteps or the sound of the door not opening and closing showed. It wasn't so much that he wanted to throw Nat out, he just… Brainy just wanted to be left alone. Was that too much to ask?

Apparently not. Brainy sighed as he finally heard Nat's shuffling footsteps and the door opening and closing. He went back to thinking, but the discussion that was happening right outside his door caught his attention. Incredibly sensitive hearing did have its advantages.

_Somewhere, a donkey brayed._

The metaphorical wheels in Brainy's head started to turn as the conversation played out. It wouldn't do to let the four Smurflings go out into the forest alone, especially since no one was allowed to smurf the village, but what could he do? What with his eyesight issues, walking out of the house and telling Papa Smurf without getting injured was near impossible.

_A goat bleated nearby._

The rain outside came down harder, making the option of leaving his nice dry house become even less appealing. However, letting the group go out to get lost or attacked was unacceptable. Besides, they were going on a little "mission" to find Clumsy… What if they succeeded? That settled it. Brainy was going to follow them, one way or another. If he could smurf his way out of his house, that was.

_At the River Smurf, something repeatedly slapped the water._

After hitting a few shelves and almost running into the door, Brainy managed to get out of his house. He decided that it would probably be better not to try to use his eyes, as it just confused him. The rain that came down and landed in his eyes did not help clear his vision, so Brainy had to trust his hearing instead. It… was not a good start. At many times, he experienced some rather unpleased dizziness, as well as being more tired than usual. He was pretty sure he had run into at least 2 other Smurfs, those of which had run off after stuttering awkwardly. Niceties tended to fade in the face of fear, but they practically ran smurfing for help.

Oh well, not everyone could have manners that were as good as his own.

_In the distance, a dog howled._

Any further thoughts on the encounters were halted abruptly when Brainy heard the meowing and hissing of a cat that everyone in the village knew and despised: Azrael. If Azrael had found the Smurflings, who were out alone in the cold rain, then… Brainy rushed as best he could towards the sounds of the cat, hoping he was, for what he considered the first time, wrong.

_A cat meowed, the sound echoing slightly._

He wasn't. The closer he got, the clearer the other sounds became, such as the voices of the Smurflings. Brainy was in such a huff and a rush that he wasn't even sure if his feet touched the ground. The adrenaline was probably just getting to him.

_Hissing and snarling came from the treetops._

At least, that's what he kept telling himself up until he rushed into a tree and fell to the ground. This wasn't a simple fall either. It felt as though he had been dropped from the top of the tree down to a cliff. He tried to get back up, but wasn't sure if he was having a nightmare or if he had actually succeeded. The only thing he knew for sure was that the darned smurfing dizziness had come back.

_A bat shrieked in the air._

* * *

Greedy was very, very tired. In all honestly, he felt like he could just smurf over any second and fall asleep. Lunch wasn't even over yet, but it felt like he had been awake all year and now needed to crash. Greedy had had a close call earlier only to be snapped out of it by the Smurflings coming to visit him. Right now he was outside, but there wasn't much to do.

_A black deer suddenly bolted past._

Not many Smurfs had come to eat lunch, and with the weather deteriorating the way it was, he doubted that he would see anybody else. Maybe he could catch just a wink or two of sleep.

_Somewhere, a donkey brayed._

Just a… few minutes of… sleep wouldn't smurf so… bad…really…

_A goat bleated nearby._

Or maybe… a few… hours…

_At the River Smurf, something repeatedly slapped the water._

ZzzZZZzzzzzZZZZzzzzz

_In the distance, a dog howled._

Lightning struck in the same instant that someone shook his shoulder, and Greedy snapped awake. Or he tried to, at least. It wasn't exactly easy to do with his eyelids smurfing like rocks. When he turned his head to see who it was that had gripped his shoulder, Greedy was more than surprised. Of all the people to wake another Smurf up, Lazy was the one Smurf no one would ever expect. As if to prove his point, Lazy yawned, looking ready to collapse himself.

_A cat meowed, the sound echoing slightly._

"Was I asleep?" Greedy asked, honestly unsure. For all he knew, he could still be sleeping. Or had not fallen asleep at all, for that matter.

"Yep. Out like a light." Lazy replied, yawning before and after he spoke. Greedy resisted the urge to growl, sticking to grumbling.

"Why'd you smurf me up?" Lazy simply pointed up, and for the first time, Greedy realized it was raining. He also noticed that he was smurfed to the bone. How had he missed that?

_Hissing and snarling came from the treetops._

"Oh. Thanks, Lazy." It was looking pretty nasty too. They both should have been inside their own houses where it was dry and warm, not out in the rain. Lazy simply yawned in response before heading to his own house, Greedy more than ready to do the same. He wasn't exactly all there, being as tired as he was, and made a few wrong turns. When he almost ran into a tree, it occurred to Greedy that he'd probably smurfed a few _dozen_ wrong turns. He was deep in the forest, a good distance away from the village or his house.

_A bat shrieked in the air._

He could eventually get back, but he wasn't exactly familiar with this part of the forest. The thought of just falling asleep where he stood instead was smurfing better and better. If only he had been more awake… Well, perhaps it wouldn't have mattered anyway. Greedy pretty much collapsed to the ground in a heap, and not a moment later his mutations finished. When he opened his eyes again, everything looked and felt different.

_A bear roared from deep within the forest._

* * *

Reporter hadn't expected his inquires to finish with Timber and Wooly acting as if they were being tortured, but part of his job was knowing how to smurf with the events. Dabbler had acted weird as well, causing a few dozen questions to spring up in Reporter's mind. While he wanted to know, he momentarily pushed the things he could ask aside, deciding he would find out later.

_A black deer suddenly bolted past._

Of course, when Dabbler had soon smurfed out and gotten them to carry Wooly and Timber out of the infirmary, there were a few things he couldn't help but ask. The answer to his inquiry had managed to motivate everysmurf, but had only made Reporter more curious. To be precise, Wooly and Tiber could potentially grow to the sizes of the animals they mutated into.

The reason for the rush was that it would be very bad for it to smurf while they were in the village, so the two needed to be removed quickly. However, there were some unsaid things that had rather scary potential answers. After all, Reporter was also mutating. Didn't the same dreaded fate apply to him? Where would they be put anyway? There wasn't exactly any safe area to just drop a few unconscious bodies, especially not with it raining.

His thoughts were cut off when his foot caught in some mud, making him lose his balance and fall. The same thing happened to Miner, who he had been helping carry Wooly. Miner quickly jumped back up, but Reporter was a bit slower, his foot caught under a branch that was also stuck. To his surprise, Wooly looked like he was in the land of the walking once more. His eyes were open, and he seemed dimly aware of what was smurfing on. Wooly was crouched down and breathing funny, though, and that wasn't exactly a good sign.

_Somewhere, a donkey brayed._

As they got closer, Reporter noticed that Wooly had a look of horror on his face, and was trembling slightly. Something was wrong, but Reporter didn't know if it was because of the mutations or if he had gotten sick. Miner gave Wooly a hug, trying to smurf him down. It didn't seem to work though, and Wooly became even more frightened, fidgeting and almost growling. His behavior reminded Reporter of a cornered animal that had been beaten, but that wasn't an all too comforting comparison. Wooly suddenly took off running, and he ignored any and all of their calls and shouts.

_A goat bleated nearby._

When Reporter gave up calling and looked back, he was smacked in the face with the unexpected disappearance of Timber. There were no footprints, no scratches, not even n impression to indicate he, or any of them, had been there at all.

_At the River Smurf, something repeatedly slapped the water._

Dabbler looked ready to pull his own teeth out, Sweepy was smurfing around and calling out Timber's name, and Miner was bashing his head into a tree. It was kind of nice to know that Reporter wasn't the only one who didn't see anything.

_In the distance, a dog howled._

Reporter looked down at the mud they were on, and noticed that it didn't seem very sturdy. Lightning struck above them, making them all flinch or jump.

_A cat meowed, the sound echoing slightly._

Feeling the dirt shift, Reporter jumped to what smurfed like harder ground, as did Miner and Sweepy. Dabbler, for whatever reason, didn't, and disappeared with the mud when it gave way.

_Hissing and snarling came from the treetops._

"Dabbler!" The three of them shouted the doctor Smurf's name, but he didn't respond. For all they knew, he couldn't hear them.

_A bat shrieked in the air._

Reporter ran to the area and tried to go down it, but he was pulled back by Miner and Sweepy. Each of them had a hand on one of his shoulders, and, though it was hard to smurf in the horrible weather, they looked grim. There was a lot of rocks and sticks in that mud, and if Dabbler hadn't been buried alive in it then he'd been stabbed to bits. The chances that he had even survived were minimal. Reporter chose to hold onto those minimal chances. They had always come out on top before, even when things seemed hopeless. They'd smurf it again. They had to.

_A bear roared from deep within the forest._

Reporter noticed that the feathers on his arms had multiplied by a great deal, and when he tried to ask the other two Smurfs a question, he found he couldn't. Admittedly, he did panic a bit, to the point where he was almost hysteric, but Reporter did manage to keep a cool head. He did not do it without help, though, and Miner quickly smacked him out of it.

The hysteria came back when Reporter caught his reflection in one of the many puddles on the ground. He was a full blown bird, and no amount of smacking helped his panic then.

_Some kind of bird squawked._

* * *

Handy quickly came to the conclusion that running had been a bad idea. He realized he probably should have thought things out a little before he had run like that.

_A black deer suddenly bolted past._

He was tired, he ached, and it looked like it was going to rain any second. The wind and the thought that someone could find him were all that was keeping him from turning around.

_Somewhere, a donkey brayed._

As it started to rain, he wondered why he couldn't have just been left alone. Handy would have gladly waited in solitude until a cure had been made. Until then, he was stuck mutating, and Handy did not like that. Not a bit, but what could he do? Nothing.

_A goat bleated nearby._

His ears seemed to play tricks on him, and Handy wasn't sure if someone really was catching up to him or not. He really, really hoped they weren't, whoever they were.

_At the River Smurf, something repeatedly slapped the water._

He was trying to get away. Handy knew that. Who was he trying to get away from?

_In the distance, a dog howled._

Lightning struck, and Handy fought the urge to hit himself in the head. He was running from Hefty, because… Because he didn't want to be seen. Right. He needed to remember that, his mind was playing tricks on him too.

_A cat meowed, the sound echoing slightly._

It wasn't just Hefty though, was it? No. Papa Smurf, the Clockworks, everyone and anyone he knew… He was trying to hide from everybody, which was kind of silly when he thought about it. Who could run and hide from everyone? Why would anybody want to, anyway? Only a crazy person would.

_Hissing and snarling came from the treetops._

Then again,_ he_ was hiding, and it was because he wanted to. So maybe he was a crazy person. Handy almost tripped over himself at the thought, almost desperate to remember what he could always remember in the past.

_A bat shrieked in the air._

He was not a crazy person, he was Handy Smurf, and he fixed things in the village. He had created the Clockworks. He was Handy Smurf, and he fixed things in the village. He had created the Clockworks. He was Handy Smurf, and he fixed things in the village. He had created the Clockworks.

_A bear roared from deep within the forest._

He was… Handy Smurf and he… did stuff? No, no, no. He was Handy Smurf, and he fixed things in the village. He had to remember that.

_Some kind of bird squawked._

He was somebody who did stuff. He had created somebody? That was dumb. He had created something. He was a Human Being. No, he was a Smurf. He had to remember that. He saw everything around him shrink as he repeated the crazy mantra to himself. He tried to ignore the pain, as well as his own screams. This was ridiculous. What was a Smurf anyway?

_Screams came from ahead._

* * *

Dabbler panicked, just a bit, when he suddenly found himself with a kicking and punching Wooly Smurf. The strangled screams sounded far worse than the howling wind, and no attempts to talk him out of it were working. Timber had gone down not long after Wooly, in a near identical position, also smurfing and twisting. Miner, Reporter, Sweepy, Jokey, and Dabbler had all looked at one another, completely at a loss as to what they could smurf. At his wits' end, Dabbler quickly turned around and looked at the various remedies he had that could be used to help. Problem was, he wasn't exactly smurfing his mind up quickly.

"Dabbler!" Said Smurf turned his head at the collective shout, an eyebrow raised. What did they want? Couldn't they see what he was trying to smurf?

"Yes?" The other four Smurfs looked at each other, and then back to Dabbler. Hadn't he noticed?

"Uh, well, yer were…" Sweepy started, not sure how to tell the doctor Smurf if he hadn't already noticed.

"Dabblin'." Miner finished for him, everyone more or less expecting the nervous look Dabbler got.

"I-I was?" Dabbler took a quick look at his gloved hands, worried. Even after becoming "Doctor Smurf", he'd jumped quite a bit from job to job. In the end, he decided to finally return to the doctor business and smurf there for good. He had thought after that whole debacle that he had been "cured" of constantly being undecided.

Suddenly, Dabbler could understand why Pushover and Willpower had been so terrified of the disease, even if he certainly didn't agree with their actions. Each of them had had "identity issues" in the past, and it seemed like this disease was smurfing them back. That was rather disconcerting.

_A black deer suddenly bolted past._

Timber suddenly started screaming as well, writhing even more. He could worry about identity issues later, Dabbler decided, as the screaming got even worse. Right now, he needed to help Wooly and Timber. Fast, by the sounds of it. A question popped up in Dabbler's head that made him stop again, realizing something he hadn't thought of before. What would happen if the mutations finished? What then? Because it was highly, _highly_, unlikely that the mutating Smurf would stay Smurf-sized after they morphed. This was bad. This was very, very, very, bad.

They needed to smurf Timber and Wooly out of the infirmary, and out of the village, as soon as they could, if not that instant.

"Everyone, we need to get these two out. NOW!" That got everybody running. The task was easier said than done, though, as any attempts to pick up either of the two or get them on their feet resulted in getting smurfed with either a foot or a fist. Thankfully, the fifth try proved successful, and Wooly and Timber were soon being run out of there like they would explode.

"Uh, Dabbler, why do we have to get them out?" Reporter asked, who was holding Wooly's feet while somehow managing not getting kicked. If Dabbler wasn't so worried about the possible results, he wouldn't have answered.

"There is a very high possibility that those two will grow to the size of whatever animal they are mutating into when it finishes. They need to be smurfed away from the village as well, just to be safe." The answer seemed to satisfy him, and everyone seemed to run even faster. This wasn't something you just waited around to find out about, after all.

It had already started to rain, and Dabbler was just beginning to contemplate just how they were going to find a dry and safe area, when Miner and Reported both tripped on a soggy patch. They were carrying Wooly, who ended up smurfing into some nearby mud. Miner quickly jumped back up, followed by a not as quick Reporter. To their surprise, Wooly seemed conscious, his eyes open. He was crouched down and breathing heavily, not really focusing on anyone or anything.

_Somewhere, a donkey brayed._

As the two Smurfs got closer, they were further surprised by the look of horror on his face. Dabbler and Sweepy both looked at each other and shrugged. They were far enough out that Dabbler felt it was safe to make a temporary stop. As they gently set Timber on the ground and got closer, Dabbler could practically feel the dread that was brewing. Something was wrong.

Miner was giving Wooly a rather enthusiastic hug, muttering multiple things. Whatever it was he said, something must have gotten lost in translation. Wooly's head smurfed slowly to Miner, the look of horror on his face becoming shocked and scared, if not just a slight bit confused. Not a second later Wooly was running, ignoring them as they called his name. Despite the hindrance his mutations must have been presenting, he was able to outrun them. The rain had made the ground soft, and it was easy to slip or to fall.

_A goat bleated nearby._

To make matters worse, when Dabbler smurfed back at where they had been, Timber was gone as well. There were n0 footprints, and any evidence that his body had been there was gone. Where on earth could it have gone?! Did someone just see a body and think that it would be a good idea to smurf off with it? If they did, they would have had to have used magic, what with the complete lack of footprints or other marks.

_At the River Smurf, something repeatedly slapped the water._

No one else seemed to know anything about it either, if their equally confused looks and shouts indicated anything.

_In the distance, a dog howled._

Lightning struck in the sky, and Dabbler's panic grew. What was he going to smurf? What could they do? Wha- He was doing it again. He was being flighty. That was bad. Everything was turning into a very big case of not good.

_A cat meowed, the sound echoing slightly._

The earth moved under them, and Dabbler became painfully aware of just how unstable the wet ground they were now on was. Reporter, Sweepy, and Miner jumped on to harder ground before it all went smurfing down the nearby hillside, but Dabbler chose then to be Dabbler. He was uncertain for too long, and before he knew it, he was being crushed slowly and painfully under the rocky earth.

_Hissing and snarling came from the treetops._

After what felt like an eternity of pain, Dabbler was mercifully knocked unconscious.

_A bat shrieked in the air._

_A bear roared from deep within the forest._

_Some kind of bird squawked._

Sometime later, Dabbler wasn't sure how long, he was back. He ached all over, and he was pretty sure that he'd lost a limb. No… If that were true, he'd be feeling more pain, wouldn't he?

Groaning, Dabbler turned to make sure he was all there. He was, kind of. The thing was, it wasn't exactly him anymore.

_Screams came from ahead._

Dabbler was all scales, and his tail was much longer than it should have been. Looking around, he noticed that everything seemed smaller. Dabbler had somehow finished mutating, though now that he thought about it, it had probably happened while he was unconscious. In fact, that was probably the reason he had recovered so soon, if he had actually only been knocked out for a small while. He could probably even find his way to the village if he tried hard enough. Something rustled nearby, though, and his new-found instincts took over. He ran up and hid in the nearest thing he could smurf, which happened to be a tree.

_A green lizard scurried up a nearby tree._

* * *

Hefty ran faster, trying to find Handy in the darkened forest.

_A black deer suddenly bolted past._

It had started raining, water coming down faster and faster as it hit all it could. Hefty was honestly surprised that, being as cold as it was, it wasn't snowing.

_Somewhere, a donkey brayed._

He was not certain where Handy could be, but he hoped with all his might that the trail of footsteps in front of him would lead to Handy.

_A goat bleated nearby._

Where was Handy, though? Of all the times to go and run… Hefty hoped the Clockworks had already smurfed their creator, but something told him they hadn't.

_At the River Smurf, something repeatedly slapped the water._

Each step was getting harder, his hooves slowing him down and making it almost impossible to smurf upright.

_In the distance, a dog howled._

Lightning struck, the brief light illuminated the wet and tired Smurf as well as the wet forest. Nothing could be seen ahead, and Hefty couldn't smurf the trail of footprints he had been following.

_A cat meowed, the sound echoing slightly._

Nothing. There was nothing beyond more water and mud and leaves.

_Hissing and snarling came from the treetops._

Behind Hefty there was also nothing, not even his own tracks.

_A bat shrieked in the air._

The trail had been right there, hadn't it?! How had he lost it?!

_A bear roared from deep within the forest._

The rain blurred his vision, lighting continually striking in the distance. With all the distractions and noise, Hefty was having trouble smurfing up from down.

_Some kind of bird squawked._

Pain surged through his body again and again, but Hefty tried to ignore it. Handy. He needed to find Handy. But how could he, now that he'd lost the trail?

_Screams came from ahead._

There! Hefty tried to follow the noise, unsuccessfully smurfing out the sound of thunder and rain pounding down around him. He tripped on the shifting mud beneath him before he could reach the area, and Hefty could practically feel his spine bending and shifting. He tried to move, to get up, to scream, but he could smurf nothing.

_A green lizard scurried up a nearby tree._

In fact, as everything inside him twisted and turned, the only thing Hefty could do was try not to let the mud cover him. Pain struck like lightning through his body, his mind screaming in protest.

_The neighing of a horse rang through the air._


	7. Chapter 7

Grimacing slightly to himself as he looked outside, noting how the weather was getting nastier by the second, Jokey wondered how he had ended up in this situation. Wherever Dabbler and the other had run to, they had yet to smurf back from it. Sickly's health was getting to be just as bad as the weather, and Jokey's own throat had definitely seen better days. The weird noises from outside, mixed with the pounding of the rain and the howling of the wind, sounded surreal. Whatever was smurfing on out there, Jokey hoped that it wouldn't decide to come in. The village had enough issues as it was, thanks.

Sickly coughed as he laid down in his infirmary bed, further reminding Jokey of how bad things were with just the two of them. He'd thought about going out to get Papa Smurf for some medicine or help, but with the weather being as bad as it was, going outside was about as safe as smurfing on a tightrope that was smurfed over a roasting fire. That alone made it very tempting, but the thought of leaving a sick Sickly by himself wasn't. Jokey didn't really have a conscious, per say, but whatever he had that was close enough didn't like the idea of Sickly's inevitable death by sickness being because Jokey was out enjoying himself as he smurfed with life.

Besides, his throat was bothering him. It got so bad that Jokey was having trouble breathing at points, never mind smurfing out and about and almost dying and almost not-dying. Smoke could really take the life out of a Smurf, especially when it was all a Smurf could breathe. Being out of the chimney had certainly helped, but his throat wouldn't just magically fix itself. He would have to wait, and Jokey couldn't smurf waiting. It only let his mind think about things he would rather not smurf about. What was taking Dabbler so long? What if Sickly got even worse and Jokey could do nothing? What if his own throat never got better? Would that affect his tricking other people? Of course it would. How was he going to prank anyone if he couldn't even walk without hacking up a storm?

There was no way he would be able to sneak up on anysmurf like that either. Anything fun was pretty much off limits or impossible to do. Pain really put a damper on having fun when it was happening to you and not someone else. Not that Jokey enjoyed seeing other people suffer or anything. Because he didn't. Honestly, he really couldn't smurf it at some points.

Right now, his problem was dealing with Sickly and making sure he didn't die on his watch. Jokey would be able to relax when Dabbler and the others finally got back, but at this rate that could be hours away. That meant that Jokey would probably be smurfed under the unspoken pressure for at least an hour, possibly longer. Jokey didn't like that kind of pressure, not at all. It was gonna be a loooooooooong night.

* * *

The air felt cold and unwelcoming, as did everything else in the forest. Snappy frowned and grumbled as he smurfed his hands against his arms, trying to keep warm. He was cold, he was tired, and he was lost. Sassette sniffled next to him, also trying to warm up. Correction: THEY were cold, THEY were tired, and THEY were lost. At least Sassette had stayed. Slouchy and Nat had taken off to who knew where, acting weird. It had something to do with those mutations, that was for sure. If Snappy ever got his hands on that red-eyed monster, he'd smurf it.

Snappy wasn't worried about them, though. Not at all. Not one bit. Why would he care, anyway? They'd run away from them like wild animals for whatever reason, not like he cared. Who would mind it if those two were probably stuck somewhere, scared out of their minds and probably hurt… It didn't bother Snappy. Sassette, on the other smurf, had no qualms about voicing any and all concerns she had about the duo. Whenever she wasn't shivering and could get her teeth to stop chattering for a bit, she'd ask about what Snappy thought they were smurfing or how she hoped they were okay.

It was starting to get on his nerves.

"Gee, I wonder if Nat's alright. Slouchy scratched him before he smurfed, ya know." Snappy grit his teeth, holding back a retort. "I mean, suffferin snakes, something like that could get infected." Snappy growled a bit in response. "Do you think Azreal has found either of them?" Snappy _snapped_.

"Smurf up, Sassette! We're in a bad enough state with you smurfing my ear off!" Frustration caused by recent events and the effects of the cold drove him on. "You know what?! I hope Azreal got them! They smurfed us behind and ran for it! And I hope that if Azreal doesn't smurf them, this weather will!" By the end of his little spiel, Snappy finally noticed that he had been a lot louder than he thought he was. If he kept it up, he could give the lightning a run for its money. He also noticed that he had made Sassette cry. "Sassette…" It was his turn for a tongue-lashing.

"W-well, if that's how you f-feel Snappy, y-you can j-just freeze alone." He wasn't yelled at. This was much worse. Somehow, having someone smurf calmly when they were angry was always worse than them screaming. She picked up Smurfy Lou, which she just HAD to bring along, and smurfed out of the bushes into the rain. Snappy tried to say something to get her to come back, to explain that he didn't mean to say it, but words failed him. Anger rising again, he lashed out.

"FINE! Have fun! Go on, why don't you just smurf on and get attacked by Azreal or that red-eyed whatever?! See if I care!" Sassette quickened her pace, disappearing into the fog and rain that the wet atmosphere had created. Snappy grumbled to himself kicking a nearby stick. "Why should I care? She's the one who kept smurfing on and on. Hope she gets eaten…" Just then, Sassette screamed. Snappy panicked, smurfing hard into the trees and fog. "I didn't mean it!"

The next thing he knew, Snappy was running towards where he had heard the scream. Why was he running? Sassette was willing to ditch him too, wasn't she? If she got hurt, that was her own fault, wasn't it? Sassette screamed again, and Snappy picked up the pace. Yeah, she'd smurfed him too, but what kind of friend was he if he just let her get eaten? Besides, he was also her adopted brother, if that meant anything.

It was hard to see in the darker light, especially with the fog and the rain getting in his eyes, but Snappy quickly came across Sassette. Her foot was stuck in the mud, and it looked like it was smurfed at a weird angle. Something was biting her arm too, and that something had red eyes that glowed. It was well after evening, so there wasn't enough light to see much of the dark thing, but not many other monsters around there had red glowing eyes.

"Hey!" A rock hit what Snappy figured was the beast's head, and more soon followed. However, his attempts worked far too well, and the next thing Snappy knew, he was being quickly approached by an angry creature with a nasty bite. Before the thing could attack, an equally unknown furry animal tackled it. The red eyed creature ran off, but the other thing stayed behind. As soon as he got a good look at it, Snappy wished it hadn't. Their "savior" was a brown cat that could probably smurf them both up if it wanted to.

It slowly walked over to Sassette, and Snappy's quick temper flared yet again.

"Smurf her alone!" He held up another rock in his hand, willing to throw a many as he could at the furry abomination if it smurfed so much as one more step. Sassette looked over at him, wide eyes brimming with more tears. The bite on her arm looked nasty, and her leg probably didn't feel too good.

"S-Snappy… H-help…" Her voice sounded light and Snappy almost had to strain to hear her words. He saw something that convinced him he was in a nightmare, and that then would be a very good time to wake up. She mutated into an animal before his very eyes, the familiarity in hers dimming. Sassette was a… a fox. She was covered in red fur, and had grown in size to that of what seemed to be an actual fox. Her foot, paw, whatever, was still smurfed in the mud, but it didn't appear twisted like it had before. The fox that had once been Sassette tilted its head, looking at Snappy with an emotion he didn't recognize. He should have just left well enough alone. He should have run when he had the chance. He shouldn't have stayed in place like a stupid statue. Snappy should've done a lot of things. Instead, he ended up fainting, leaving a confused and bewildered fox and cat.

* * *

Even though they had checked and double checked everywhere they could think of, Sweepy and Miner continued their gloomy search for Reporter, Dabbler, Timber, and Wooly. Reporter had had a massive panic attack after he finished mutating, and had smurfed off into the sky somewhere, screeching up a storm. Speaking of which, the actual storm had continued to get worse, the rain coming down fast and hard. An eerie fog had risen, which did nothing to help with the search.

Miner couldn't see his own hand in front of his face anyway, but Sweepy insisted that it wasn't that bad. He could still see his own hand, apparently. That was disturbing, unnerving, and just a mite bit terrifying. The sounds of the forest echoed around them, playing tricks and making it hard to step anywhere without smurfing something or slipping. To top it all off, there had been no sign of the others or even any other creatures. The only way Miner knew the plants were still there was because it was near impossible not to run into them.

The two stumbled across the River Smurf, which looked much bigger than it usually did. The enormous amount of rainfall had definitely increased the flow of the river, and it seemed much higher than it normally was. Splashing could be heard from the river itself, though neither knew whether it was because of all the rainfall or because of some animal. Miner was just about to turn back when something actually caught his eye. Again, it was near impossible to see anything, but the color red smurfed out vibrantly against all the grey. Red that was attached to something, something that was moving in the water.

Miner abruptly went rigid, and Sweepy briefly wondered if Miner himself was going through some kind of crazy spasm or panic attack like Wooly and Timber had smurfed. Then he put 2 and 2 together, and Miner's behavior seemed completely understandable. After all, what creature did they know of that had red as a very distinctive feature? Red glowing eyes would certainly be easy to smurf, even in the dense fog, and that bit of red they had seen certainly could have been from the monster. Miner slowly turned to look at Sweepy, and the duo came to something of a silent agreement. Miner picked up a rock and crept forward slowly to the edge of the river, Sweepy doing likewise.

Each raised their projectiles as the blur of red got closer, ready to run for it immediately if the thing really was the red eyed menace. Whatever it was disappeared back under the water, and for a moment it seemed like it was gone for good. This proved to be incorrect when the whatsit popped up right in front of them. If it was hard to see with all the weather, then it was impossible to see what was smurfing underwater. The creature must have swum closer instead of away, like they had originally thought/hoped.

Miner and Sweepy both jumped back at the sudden appearance, Sweepy losing his footing in the process. Miner managed to grab his arm and smurf him back before he could fall into the frigid water, luckily. The animal leered closer, allowing Sweepy to get a better look at it. While beavers weren't normally seen around this part of the forest, Sweepy had seen enough to recognize it as such. The animal itself was large and furry, had a long flat black tail, and its front teeth were rather long and large.

He also noticed that the red that they had seen apparently was something that appeared to be loosely attached to some fur on the beaver's neck. He walked forward slowly, so as not to startle the animal, and reached up to touch the material. It was a type of fabric, fabric that Sweepy and many other Smurfs were rather familiar with. It was of Tailor's make, after all. Now that he thought about it, Sweepy recalled that he had seen that particular bit of fabric before. It had been around Timber's neck before he disappeared, hadn't it?

"Miner…You might want to 'ave a smurf at this." Miner lurched forward, his eyes never leaving the beaver. It took quite a bit of an effort to yank them away to see what Sweepy was smurfing about, but when he finally did it didn't even take him a second to recognize the red cloth. Miner's mind instantly went back to when the red eyed creature had bitten both Wooly and Timber, and he shuddered. The neckerchief belonged to Wooly, but he had used it as makeshift bandaging for Timber's neck after the latter had been bitten the other night. Even after Dabbler had put some actual bandages on it, Timber had insisted on keeping the worn cloth until Wooly was well enough to smurf it back. Miner backed up a little, slowly, and squinted. He tried to compare certain features, but when Miner saw its large front teeth, he quickly smurfed his eyes tight. Was it…? Could it have been...? No, it couldn't have. It just couldn't be.

But it was, wasn't it? Miner thought back to how the mutations had affected Timber, how his teeth had grown and how fur had eventually started to cover him. He shouldn't have finished mutating, he had only been bitten the other night, and it shouldn't have even been possible for it to happen so fast. Miner and Sweepy were supposed to find him before that, how could it possibly have happened so quickly? Miner himself had been bitten first, yet very little about him had changed, especially when compared to how fast the others Smurf's mutations had been smurfing. The others mutations had been going faster… much faster… oh, no.

It _was _Timber, as sure as the river was wet. His mutations must have finished after he had disappeared. Miner didn't know why it had finished so soon or even how Timber had disappeared in the first place, but this was Timber. Miner back up and lifted his head until he was looking the beaver in the eye. Time for the truth.

"Timber?"

* * *

Looking out from underneath her makeshift umbrella, a certain pixie wished she had been better prepared. Pansy's idea to visit the Smurfs had literally ended up all wet. The weather wasn't looking up any, and that meant that she still couldn't fly back to Pussywillow Hollow or to the Smurfs village. She probably should have just given up; none of the Smurfs would be out and about in this weather. However, Pansy was not one to easily give up. Her determination to walk through the forest despite the raging storm was proof enough of that.

The sounds of the forest were strange and wild, but Pansy had heard crazier back when she was imprisoned by the Wartmongers. What hadn't happened to her when she was imprisoned that did then in the forest was being tackled by a big furry dog. Well, Pansy assumed it was big. They didn't really have many animals beyond frogs in the Hollow, much less fluffy pets. For all she knew, dogs could normally be the size of castles.

Another dog came running from out of the fog, dragging the bigger one off of her by the ear. The one that tackled her scrambled off rather quickly, seeming almost embarrassed. Pansy picked up the umbrella made of leaves and looked at the dogs again, recognizing one.

"Puppy?" It looked like the Smurfs' dog, at least. It was a spotted brown dog with a golden locket, but then maybe those were the norm. He barked happily, running over to her. So it was Puppy, but where were his owners? Were the Smurfs in danger? Where had this larger dog come from? Pansy looked at the dog that had tackled her, slightly wary. Said dog whimpered at her look and lowered its head, its ears drooping. It was, again, relatively large, and had a golden brown coat that made it stand out from the dreary background. The animal certainly didn't seem vicious or scary, and definitely wasn't intimidating, at least not in that position. The more she thought about it, one could even say that it looked kind of adorable. "What are you doing out here?"

"Ruff!" The bigger dog barked in reply, and continued to bark, getting faster and faster. The barks were loud but not deep, and the more rapid they became the higher pitched they got. Puppy somehow got it to calm down with only a few barks, for which Pansy was very grateful. Her ears were ringing like there was no tomorrow, and that had happened after only a few seconds of the large dog's barking. She didn't even want to think about what could've happened if it had continued for a whole minute or more.

"Can you take me to the village, Puppy? I wanted to give the Smurfs a surprise visit, but by now I would be very happy just to get there in one piece." The other Pussywillow Pixies had warned her that it might rain a bit, but none of them had predicted it being anywhere near this severe. They weren't too keen on going out when it could rain, especially not somewhere out in the open like the forest, so most had declined.

Acorn _had_ wanted to go with her, but she was too young, and, whether she liked it or not, Pansy wasn't the most responsible adult around to keep an eye on her. Pansy hadn't minded going alone then, but right now she really wanted some company and some shelter. Luckily enough, Smurf Village was gaining quite the reputation for both if they thought you were nice. Pansy was pretty sure she was a good pixie too, so they probably wouldn't turn her away. Not in a storm this bad. Okay, so Pansy was trying to convince herself more than anything, but she felt slightly justified. For most of her life, she had thought the Smurfs were hairy red eyed monsters. Of course, she knew better now, but nightmares from when she was very young came back to haunt her in times like this.

She hadn't told anyone she was coming, and it would look pretty rude of her just to show up in the middle of a storm with no prior warning. Even if they didn't get angry, Pansy would be rather upset with herself. After all the ways they had helped her and her friends in the past, it wouldn't really be fair to ask them for even more help because she went walking straight into a dangerous storm.

She hadn't known that it was going to be anywhere near this bad, though, and the Smurfs _were_ really nice. As some of the icy water managed to get around her umbrella and pelt her, Pansy decided that anywhere and anything was better than just standing there and waiting for it to get even worse. The dogs both started walking away, snapping her out of her thoughts. She tried to follow, her considerably fast pace slightly slower than theirs. She really hoped they were taking her to Smurf Village. If only Pansy could talk to the animals like Papa Smurf or Tracker, then maybe she would have had a better idea of what was going on.

* * *

It was only a stroke of fate that had kept Peewit and Johan from getting lost in the terrible weather. What had started out as a simple errand for the Good King had quickly deteriorated and become a nightmare. Bayard and Biquette were also very lucky, as each managed to keep their paces steady and not slip on the soft ground. They had their riders to think of and protect, after all. The lightning that kept striking did very little to ease anyone, but not one of them had been hit by it yet. The sounds of the forest made it hard to think clearly, and the cold rain as well as the thick fog made seeing anything very hard.

It was soon very clear that if they wanted to make any progress, they would have to stop. Perhaps they would wait for only a few minutes, perhaps they would have to wait hours. It all depended on how long the storm lasted and how it would change. The fact that they had prepared only enough supplies for a quick trip did not help at all, and Peewit had already eaten most of the food they'd brought. Johan was tired and worn, while his shorter companion was tired and cranky. Very cranky.

"Johan, are you sure we can't head back? I'm hungry!" Peewit asked, his rumbling stomach only serving to emphasize his statement. Johan sighed and turned to his friend, wishing very much that he could just say yes and that they could be done with the debacle.

"Peewit, even if we could find our way back, we need to do this for the King. Besides, I'm sure the weather will clear up soon. When that happens, we can find an inn." Johan hoped he sounded more confident the he felt. He would have to remain strong, if only for Peewit. His young friend didn't need to worry about the countless possibilities, the enormous chances that they would not even find decent shelter, let alone food. Any animal could approach them in this weather, and Johan feared that they wouldn't notice until it was too late.

As if to prove this point, Johan suddenly became very aware of someone standing right next to him and Bayard, and it wasn't Peewit. The sky was dark enough that little but a tall shadow could be seen. Johan fumbled slightly for his sword, unsure of the new person's intentions. The conditions were just right for a thief to come and rob them blind.

"Who goes there?" The figure stumbled at the question, tumbling to the ground. Lightning flashed, revealing a young man in simple peasant's clothes. Johan lowered his sword slightly in surprise. He certainly didn't look threatening, anything but really, but one could never be sure. Poverty had the ability to drive even the most pure-hearted and simple-natured of men to acts of thievery.

"S-sorry." The man spluttered, trying in vain to get back up on his feet. "I d-didn't realize you were t-there." Johan and Peewit shared a worried look. The man had almost been on top of them, and he hadn't noticed? They hadn't been tracked by a cunning and cruel thief; they'd stumbled across a confused and possibly ill man.

"Are you alright, sir?" Johan asked, reaching a hand down to help the stranger. He grasped it wildly, as if he was afraid the limb would just disappear.

"T-to be honest, I'm n-not really s-sure." There was no doubt, this man was ill. Perhaps not in the maniacal sense, but something was obviously ailing him. Peewit and Biquette circled around slowly, until they were on the other side. It was often very hard to tell what an ill man was thinking or capable of, and it would be better for everyone if he didn't stumble again or have a wild fit.

"So, what's your name?" Peewit asked, not willing to have another undesired silence envelop them. Besides, he was very curious about this stranger. Who was he? What did he do? Where had he come from? What was it like? Did it have food? Okay, so maybe his hunger also had something to do with his curiosity.

"I'm… I'm…" Unfortunately, the stranger seemed to know as much as they did on the subject. "My name is… Andy?" It was more of a question than an answer, but Peewit took it.

"Andy, huh? That's nice." There really wasn't much else to say about it.

"I'm Johan, and this is Peewit." Johan explained, hoping maybe that Andy could tell them something they could sue to find a safe way to a town or city. He stayed quiet, though, so perhaps not. The trio continued to move through the storm, seeing no signs of shelter or human life. "If you don't mind me asking, how'd you get out here? This isn't exactly a good time for a stroll." Peewit snorted at that, his eyes rolled skyward. Understatement of the century.

"I was running… from someone." That helped. "Multiple someones? Yes, I was being chased."

"Why?" Peewit asked, frowning slightly. He was not a big supporter of people who chased other people away. There was a reason he'd become the "Goblin of Boulder Woods", after all, and people like that were a big part of it.

"I look… wrong." A cripple? Johan hadn't noticed anything different about Andy, but it was hard to tell in the darkened sky and through the rain. By this point, it was nightfall, the sun having disappeared long ago behind the grey clouds, making it impossible to see what the lightning did not show. "I look… Human." That was certainly strange. What was wrong about looking human?

"But you _are_ human." Peewit pointed out, now wondering how they had managed to find the craziest of the crazy men.

"I haven't always been this way." That didn't make any sense. "I don't know what I looked like before, but I do know that being Human… is bad. Very bad." Maybe Andy had hit his head in the storm, hard. Amnesia would certainly work nicely with the rotten conditions to make a man appear insane. Before either could ask for clarification, he was nearly run over by a horse.

* * *

Sickly felt as if he was surrounded by lava, covered in searing wounds. He was going to die. At that point, he wanted very much so to just die and get it all over with. It eventually got to the point where he voiced such desires, but Sickly immediately realized that he had made a big mistake in smurfing Jokey, of all people. Jokey's mental state of health was considered shaky at best, outright nonexistent at worst. It had not helped that Jokey seemed torn between laughing his head off and screaming. Things became much scarier when Sickly realized that Jokey was not laughing nor trying to scream. His body shook, but not from fear or laughter. The actual answer hit Sickly full force: Jokey was crying. Sickly had just broken Jokey, and he had no idea how he had done it or how in the world he could fix it.

"D-don't w-we a-all?" Jokey started laughing after that. He sounded mad, as if the darkness and fire had taken over his mind. It was the weirdest thing Sickly had ever smurfed, because Jokey was still crying as he did so. There was only one possible answer. Jokey had snapped. He had officially lost it, and now the crazy Smurf had become even nuttier. "Y-you c-can't, S-Sickly. I-it's the s-sickness smurfing. We need you a-alive and w-well, not b-begging for d-death. T-try to smurf through the pain, p-please. D-Dabbler will be back any s-second with a c-cure." Sickly seriously doubted that, but decided to humor Jokey. There was probably some rhyme or reason behind his actions, just not one he could smurf. He had spent his whole life wishing for cures, wishing that someone could make him healthy and whole. So far, nothing. There was always a chance though, and Sickly tried to hold on to that. He had to, and he could. For a few more hours, he would try.

"Okay." The world was burning, Sickly was burning, but there would be an end to it. One way or another, there would be an end. He nodded weakly, more to himself than Jokey, suddenly void of any and all energy. His foggy and overheated head fell back on the cool pillow, and he dreamt of a world filled with flames and mad Smurfs. He dreamt of a world where he had been smurfed healthy and never grew sick, and he dreamed of a world where pain and illness did not exist. Sickly dreamt of many things, but would remember none. So far as it went, mutating in one's sleep was the gentlest of ways.

* * *

Things weren't looking too good in the village. No one had noticed the others' absence, as no one dared venture outside to find out. That wasn't a bad thing, though, was it? After all, ignorance was bliss. No, what was truly bad was what happened to those that _did_ notice. It did take a while, but eventually someone tried to see some Smurf, only to find out that they couldn't. Tailor was that Smurf, and he regretted even thinking about leaving his home the instant he took a step outside. What with the storm howling as it had been, Tailor was unable to sleep. To add to it, he could not light a fire, as he had accidentally smurfed his firewood outside. In the storm. Naturally he hadn't noticed until it was too late, and by that point there wasn't anything he could do with it.

So, hours later, in the dark of the night, Tailor realized with clarity that only came from not sleeping that he had yet to visit Wooly or Timber. Early he had finished sewing the scarves he wanted to give to the two before winter hit, but had not yet given them to their owners. Again, with that eerie clarity induced by a complete lack of sleep that made stupid decisions seem rational, he decided that then would be as good a time as any to give the two the scarves before they smurfed once again as well as visit them to see how they were doing.

Big mistake. Biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiig mistake. The only worse decision he could have made was to have also gone for a nice walk in the "lovely" weather they were having. Actually, that's pretty much exactly what he ended up doing, whether he wanted to or not. After continuing to walk, a side effect of leaving his brain behind, Tailor found that the weather was so horrible and that it was so dark that he was lucky to smurf up from down. To be honest, he wasn't even sure he had gotten that right.

When he almost fell down the well, Tailor wondered who had stolen his common sense and why they had chosen then of all times to give it back. It must have been the result of being smurfed by millions of icy raindrops in wind that was so fast that it could rip flesh from bone. There _was _a cure for stupidity, and he had found it, but Tailor certainly wouldn't recommend it to anyone.

He had finally found the infirmary, but by that point Tailor was numb and could have qualified as a patient himself. If Dabbler had been there, he most assuredly would've been. As it was, Dabbler, Timber, and Wooly were missing. Only Sickly and Jokey, who was in there for whatever reason, remained. Not that Tailor really cared by that point. There was a free bed, a warm fire was smurfing, and he was pretty sure he hadn't died. He quietly laid one of the scarves on the small stand next to Sickly, and handed the other to Jokey. After that, he trudged to the bed that was unoccupied, and had slipped into the land of Nod in less than a second.

* * *

Far away from the village, far away from the mutations, far away from the chaos, and far away from the storm was one Marco Smurf. It wouldn't stay that way for long, though, even if he didn't know it yet. Marco was on a ship headed straight for a human city near the Smurf Forest, near his home. He had found many interesting spices on his trips and had originally planned to find many more. That idea was quickly discarded when he had woken up one morning with the burning desire to see his family again. Marco wasn't exactly sure why, but he felt something tug at him. It was probably just a small bout of homesickness, but this was the perfect time and opportunity to visit. No one seemed to mind when he did so anyway, often enjoying the tales of creatures and encounters he always smurfed back with.

Marco certainly didn't mind visiting, often going to the village at least once a year. His time when he had been captured by the Pepper Pirates had made him enjoy the rare moments he and his family had together, especially when he was thought of his own mortality. A Smurf at sea who traveled with pirates, traders, and sailors was likely to smurf a life full of adventure, just not a long one. Every time he saw his ever growing family, he had to acknowledge that that could possibly be the last time he saw them or they saw him. One did not expect a life of adventure to be safe. That was a dull thought not fit for risk takers and disaster makers. A safe life was a predictable life, and a life not fit for Marco Smurf. Oh, he had tried to live a quiet simple life. It had not worked out for anyone involved, and only served to smurf things worse. Not to go too much into detail, it had ended up with many Smurfs being treated for injuries, it somehow snowing in summer, and a rather upset Papa Smurf.

That didn't mean that his unavoidable end was something that he would ever mention to his family. They worried enough already, their lives on land sometimes almost as hectic as his on the sea. Marco did not want to think of how they would take his view on his path. The sun was setting, which meant it was probably dark back at the village. If the ship continued as it had been on its original path at this speed, Marco figured he'd be there in the morning. He took another breath of the brisk salty air, enjoying the serenity that surrounded him. They would never know these simple joys, could never smurf the pleasures that came along with a life traveling the world.

Not like he was going to visit them alone. Marco took a look over the side and, sure enough, Marina was still there. The stunning mermaid had been swimming alongside the boat since that morning, also intent on visiting his family. Well, she was mostly focused on smurfing Handy again, but she had said that she'd also wanted to see the other Smurfs as well. Handy had found himself a very practical, beautiful, and kind Mermaid who loved him with all her heart. Some Smurfs got all the luck.

Now, Marco wasn't the type to deny what he was feeling or to hide any emotions. He had been taken with the Mermaid as soon as he had heard her wonderfully hypnotic song. However, he also realized that she and Handy loved each other, and that if he had any sense or decency, he'd let them be. That didn't stop him from wondering what it would have been like had Marina smurfed him first. It definitely could have happened, what with Marco having traveled the salty waters for most of his life. If only…No. Dwelling for too long about what could have been would only serve to make him bitter. He forced himself to think back to how much he enjoyed his life on boats and ships.

Marco imagined he himself was rather in the dark about the perks of living on land, but he felt like that was alright. He was happy with what he had. He briefly wondered what his family had been up to and how they were doing. He figured that they were all probably enjoying themselves and relaxing, playing with each other and just smurfing the last few days before winter. Ah, Marco couldn't wait to see them.


	8. Chapter 8

His head throbbed. Papa Smurf held back a groan as he tried to fight the migraine he had smurfed looking for Handy. He had been at it for most of the night, only coming back defeated at sunrise. Now, as if that wasn't enough, multiple Smurfs were also missing. Hefty had never returned, and others seemed to have just disappeared. Among the many that had vanished were Jokey, Farmer, Smurfette, and Sweepy, all of which hadn't even been infected the last time anyone saw them. Tailor had been found on the ground with a serious fever, shivering and delusional. The infirmary had been reduced to a pile of rubble for some reason, nothing remaining of its doctor or patients. The air was still as cold as ice, and a good deal of the fog from last night had remained. Clouds covered the sky, so little to no bright sunlight managed to smurf through. Most were still asleep, but those who were actually awake and moving about were overtaken by either panic or grief.

It hadn't helped that their leader had been missing throughout most of the night, and had gotten no sleep and was nearly smurfing himself ill. Papa Smurf was rather acutely aware of the negative effects he was causing himself, but it took a backseat to the need to calm his family down. That was his job. He had been absent earlier; unable to be a good father, and now he would smurf the consequences.

"Papa Smurf?" He almost jumped when he heard his name, not realizing until it was too late that someone had smurfed over to him. He turned his head after taking in a sharp breath, wondering who in the world wasn't panicking or frightened enough to actually talk. Shockingly, it was Lazy. Nothing seemed to faze him anymore, whether it be enslavement or watching one of his brothers almost die.

"Yes, Lazy?" Papa Smurf watched his tone, remembering one particular incident that had occurred a few years ago when he had last blown his top at Lazy. He certainly didn't want to smurf through anything like that again, especially not with all the chaos that was already going on. Papa Smurf had promised not to lose his temper like that again, anyway.

"Well *yawn*, I think I might just smurf where Greedy disappeared to." Greedy was one of the many who had disappeared, and no one had known what he had last been doing or where he had even been. If they could find out where some, even one, of the Smurfs who had gone missing could be, it would definitely help in finding the others. The trouble with Lazy as the Smurf who knew something about it was, well… He wasn't exactly a Smurf who did anything besides, honestly, sleeping. Did he really know, or was this another dream he couldn't smurf from reality? Not that Lazy would be offended by such questions, because, true be told, Lazy himself wasn't all too sure about it. Since he spent so much time asleep, what had actually happened and what he had dreamed tended to blur.

"Are you sure Lazy?" He nodded and yawned yet again, eyes drooping. He really wanted to sleep, but he also really wanted to help. This time he could, so he was definitely going to try. He actually knew something valuable. He could make a difference, and Lazy was determined to do just that. It was the least he could do, what with his family freaking out like this. Besides, after he told Papa Smurf, he could probably crash and smurf a few more hours of sleep without being bothered.

"Yup." Well, if he was that positive… "I saw him the other day, after the storm had smurfed. He was out on one of the benches, asleep." That was very strange. Papa Smurf frowned. Had he heard that correctly?

"Greedy was sleeping, in that weather?" That was more than a little hard to believe.

"It sounds *yawn* pretty weird, but it's true. I was just smurfing to my house and to my bed for *yawn* a nice 12 hour nap when I saw him." It had been an unusual sight, one that had made Lazy worry. Not a lot, but enough. Greedy's unnatural attitude and personality after Lazy woke up the cook only added fuel to the fire. Even then, Lazy had trusted Greedy to be able to find his way to his own home. That had apparently been a very incorrect assumption.

"Really? Where did he smurf after that?" Papa Smurf suddenly tried incredibly hard to listen to every bit of Lazy's next words, especially for anything that could help lead them to Greedy or the others.

"I don't know." His headache grew. Why was that not surprising? "I did *yawn* see what direction he went, though. He was so *tired*, I doubt he turned or *yawn* smurfed his path." Papa Smurf sighed. He grit his teeth slightly, trying very hard to rationalize with himself that this something was still far better than the nothing he'd had before.

As if there wasn't enough smurfing on, Marco Smurf chose then to show up.

* * *

Trampling a human wasn't something that Hefty would ever dream of doing, but somehow he ended up smurfing exactly that. It was only a good deal of luck and a sword suddenly being held to Hefty's new throat that kept said human's head from being squashed. He reared back, almost slipping in the mud. Hefty had been smurfing high and low for his best friend, to no avail. He had checked out different areas of the forest as well, eventually deciding that Handy had probably moved to a safer and well-protected spot. The weather would be nowhere near as harsh in the denser areas, what with all the trees and bushes there to block the wind and rain.

Instead of finding his best friend, he had ended up nearly running over three weary and worn humans who were armed. To add to the confusion, the one that he had nearly smurfed in his rush was hugging him around the neck. The other two humans seemed equally befuddled.

"Hey pal." That voice. It was his voice. No, no, no, no! Hefty went rigid, panic growing and spreading through his mind. This wasn't an ordinary human, this was someone he'd been looking for, and Hefty'd almost _killed _him. "You found me." Hefty had almost ended the life of his best friend and brother. The one he had been in such as rush to find in the first place. _Shoot_.

"You know this horse, Andy?" Johan! It was strange, seeing someone who had once been so tall that they towered over you look smaller than yourself, but Hefty was more concerned with other things. The main one was what the hay was Johan doing there. And who in the name of Smurf was "Andy"? Handy's grip on Hefty's neck and mane suddenly went slack, and he fumbled backwards.

"I… Yes… No… I believe so?" In the clouded, foggy, and jumbled hurricane if chaos that was Andy's mind, only of one thing was he certain. He knew this horse. Knew it like he was family. Knew him like he was a brother. Andy knew it wasn't possibly for humans and horses to be related, but rationality wasn't exactly sticking with him. So far it seemed like it just came and went, and right then it was out the door and running down the road. "He is my… friend."

Ouch. Hefty snorted slightly in annoyance. He was a bit more than just a simple friend, wasn't he? He wasn't exactly sure what to think when Handy ended up on his back, except that his brother had not remembered things clearly, if at all. This threw a real smurf into the works.

"Riders. They always jump around, never getting to the point or being clear. They can be incredibly ridiculous, can they not?" The new and unfamiliar voice startled him, and Hefty briefly took his attention away from the human conversation to focus on whoever and whatever the speaker was. The answer was quite surprising, although understandable in hindsight.

"Bayard!?" Hefty was now a horse, so it made sense that he would be able to talk to other horses. The connection hadn't been made until now, even if it did make sense for him to be able to talk to other horses, so Hefty still felt like he had almost smurfed a heart attack.

"You know of me?" How was he going to explain this? Hefty had no issue smurfing the horse what had happened, but at the same time wondered how to come across without babbling or looking insane.

"Ah, leave the foal alone, Bayard. He's probably heard of us by word of mouth. We've been gaining _quite_ the reputation, as you love to keep remindin me." Biquette spoke up, her voice gravely and smurfed. Hefty could understand more than just other horses. Great. "Let's try to concentrate on staying up and moving instead of gabbing." With that the animal trio continued on with their riders, the storm and howling winds drowning out most of the words the humans said.

"….Andy ….. Kingdom…. Magical?" Hefty had no idea what they were talking about, but he did know that he couldn't stop moving. If he did, he probably would try to get back to the village by himself. He couldn't just smurf that, he needed to stick by Handy. While Handy was indeed on his back, Hefty didn't want to risk accidentally getting him to smurf off or scaring him to death. It was going to be a long trip, and Hefty could only hope that the village would be alright.

* * *

A human was chasing him. Not Gargamel or any of their other human enemies, just a regular human. Farmer didn't know who the human was or even why they were smurfing him in the first place, but he didn't like it. He'd run far from his fields in his panic, although certainly not on purpose. He had eventually come across a farmyard late in the night and had tried to figure things out there. Farmer had been discovered by one of the farmhands, and they hadn't exactly been pleased to see him trotting about on their land. He certainly hadn't expected them to get a cleaver of all things and try to smurf him with it.

One of his hooves caught underneath some of the loose dirt and rocky ground, causing him to stop dead in his tracks. The burly human advanced, swiping and almost slicing his ears in the process. In fact, they even managed to nick one. Enough was enough, Farmer decided, and so he aimed a square kick to their chest. He didn't miss, and was almost tempted to hunt after the human the way Farmer had been smurfed. In their confusion and panic they had left their weapon behind, and would be rather defenseless if cornered. He couldn't go thinking like that though, Farmer had to keep a cool head and somehow get back to the village and his fields. He had responsibilities, crops to take care of and protect, and a family to help. He couldn't just go about hunting people down for mere revenge; that was for Smurfs who had nothing better to do.

A sturdy tug managed to unlodge his foot, but when he turned to trek back towards home, he caught sight of something that shined and stood out on the cold ground. The cleaver. He walked towards it slowly and almost hesitantly, noticing the splotch of blood on it. The water washed it away slowly, and the material smurfed Farmer's own image back at him. He was an animal alright, an injured one. His ears, as well as the rest of him, were covered in splotchy light brown fur. The nick had been bigger than he had smurfed originally, and he could see and feel the red blood ooze down slowly. He ran his tongue over his large yellow teeth, wondering who the hay's reflection he was seeing. The only part of him he could even recognize were his eyes, which were their usual smurfy blue. Farmer tore himself away from the cursed object and continued on, playing previous events over and over in his head. He'd turned into a farm animal, had absolutely no idea what was going on elsewhere, and was pretty much unprepared. A regular day if he'd ever heard one.

The rain seemed to slow down, but Farmer ignored it. He figured it was his mind playing tricks on him, or that the rain would soon kick back up to its regular violent tempo. He paid little attention to the fog around him, and even littler was paid to any other animals or creatures. Farmer needed to focus on smurfing back, first and foremost. It seemed like he had managed to get pretty far from the village, though. He just walked and walked, the terrain changing from rocky to swampy, until another animal managed to stop him by charging. Farmer found himself on the ground, having just been barreled over by a goat that was running like its tail and fur were on fire. If that wasn't interesting, what the goat said next certainly was.

"Sorry, Ah'm not watchin' where Ah'm smurfin'." Farmer staggered up off the ground, his mind taking a few seconds to catch up with the words. There was only one species in the world that spoke like that, and Farmer could only think of one Smurf who had been infected as well as talked that way.

"Wooly?" It was a long shot, but he might as well ask. Everything and anything was possible now, even the thought that this goat was actually his brother.

"Yea- How do ya know that?" The goat had turned to look at Famer, his expression somewhere between shocked and suspicious. It was a busy, confusing, shocking day in general, so Farmer could hardly blame him. For all he knew, the red eyed creature could be hiding behind one of the many large rocks or even right behind him. The fog made seeing such things incredibly hard to smurf.

"It's me. Farmer." Maybe it had been a rough day. Maybe from Wooly's point of view it was all reasonable. Maybe he had just lost it, but for whatever reason, Wooly burst out laughing. It wasn't maniacal laughter by any means, just not the laughter of a sane person.

"Ha- Y-yer- HA! T-that m-means- hahaha! It means- Hahaha!" He tried to speak, but had trouble smurfing past two words without breaking down into laughter. Farmer scuffed slightly at the ground with a hoof, unsure of whether Wooly was trying to make fun of him or if he was just taking a page out of Jokey's book.

"Breathe, Wooly, try ta breathe." It smurfed a while, but Wooly managed to get himself together.

"Thanks." Farmer grumbled, nodding once.

"What were ya tryin' ta smurf, anyway?" It was Wooly's turn to look at the ground.

"Well, Ah figure if ya've mutated, then that means more Smurfs have been infected, and that means even more panic, which'll probably lead ta-" Oh.

"Ah get the picture." It wasn't the loveliest of images, definitely not. The two started smurfing side by side towards the village, neither saying much. Wooly did start to snicker, which caused Farmer to wonder about his state of mind again.

"What's so funny?" Wooly chuckled to himself for a second or two more, debating whether or not to let Farmer in on his little joke.

"Weeeell, Ah was just thinkin' about how ya smurfin' inta a donkey fits. Ya know, 'stubborn as a mule' and all that. Besides, ya gotta admit that ya can be a right-" Farmer interrupted him again. He already knew what he was going to say, no need for him to rub it in.

"Aw, shaddup." There wasn't any malice behind the words, though, and for the rest of their trip the two did little more but continue to walk and chuckle.

* * *

Nat had seen fantastic days, days that had made him cheer and laugh and smile like there was no tomorrow. Days that made him happy to be alive and to be able to enjoy nature, days that made everything seem bright and smurfy, days that had made every second wonderful. This _wasn't_ one of them.

It was cold, it was dark, and it was scary. Nat was lost, had no idea how to get back or where to start, and he was pretty sure that the scratch on his nose and cheek was infected. It stung all over, and the flesh felt like it was burning. All sorts of creatures were hiding from the weather, and Nat tried to follow suit. It was very hard to find a hollow or tree that wasn't already occupied, though, and not many creatures were ready to share their homes and territories with a complete stranger.

Any place that wasn't occupied that could have once been inhabitable was now ruined by the harsh weather. Rotting logs, like the one he was in, smurfed apart easily under the sharp pressure of the rain and wind. Caves that smurfed downward filled up and anyone and anything in them would drown or have to swim for it. The tree that he had once been in had swayed dangerously in the wind, and the lighting had struck the tree right next to his and caused it to burst into flame, convincing him to jump and try to find a better place.

Nat wondered if he could go to the village, if there would be some miracle cure waiting for him and the other infected and mutated Smurfs. It seemed highly unlikely, but they were magical creatures. That meant that the unlikely was almost always guaranteed. It also meant that the crazy, impossible, silly, and stupid stuff happened to them a lot too. Slouchy liked to remind him of that.

Slouchy. Nat wondered where he was, how he and the others were smurfing. Sassette and Snappy were probably still lost and unprotected, and could be sick or injured. Slouchy could be anything and anywhere, in any state. Could they be unconscious? Cursing his name? Under attack? Nat didn't know. He was having enough trouble figuring out where he was and making sure he did not smurf track of that. It was a hard task, though, especially since his mind was filled with unanswered worries and questions.

Had the other infected Smurfs finished mutating, or were they all fine? What was happening at the village? Nat didn't even know what time of day it was. The rain just kept going and going, pounding mercilessly at the ground. Nat was vaguely reminded of some kind of flood, but he shrugged it off. Things seemed lighter, but what with all the fog and lightning it was hard to smurf if it was dawn or dusk. For all Nat knew, noon could have already come and gone.

No animals dared venture out, nor did any sane being. He had no idea how to find help, where, or even who he should turn to. Could he dare try to seek out an animal friend while looking like any other forest creature, and a scavenger at that? Would he be attacked by a wolf or a human hunter? Humans presented a very big threat, especially with the forest in such disarray. Poachers that had no common sense would probably try to hunt, or at the very least lay traps in the forest. King Gerard tried to punish humans who did that, but even his best attempts wouldn't always smurf. Nat sighed, curling up into himself. Humans could be so stupid and ignorant, it wasn't even worth mentioning.

As if thinking about it summoned them, the clopping of hooves could be heard. His mind instantly jumped, already paranoid about humans coming or going. Humans traveled by horse, didn't they? He hoped that the horses did not crush his weak shelter, and Nat smurfed up even tighter, into as small a ball as he could.

* * *

Grouchy, surprise surprise, hated anything and everything. He grumbled to himself and glared at anything that moved, hating a good deal of everything. The weather stunk, breakfast wasn't going to be ready any time soon, and multiple Smurfs were moaning and complaining. They whined and moaned about the missing Smurfs, to the point where Grouchy wanted to just smurf the annoying noises back down their throats. It wasn't like they were disliking something because it was stupid or ridiculous, they were just being pesky nuisances who apparently didn't know when to shut up.

If anything though, what really annoyed Grouchy was that they kept bothering him to try and help get back the idiots who went and get lost. That meant saving stupid people who probably didn't deserve to go on, acting "smurfy" just because some bigoted and stupid Smurfs thought he should, and worst of all, it meant getting Jokey back. The only upside to the whole debacle, and he used the term "upside" very loosely, was that Jokey was finally out of his nonexistent hair, and now some fools wanted to go and get him back.

They could do that, then. They could risk their lives for Smurfs who would mess up again later and be "kind" and "caring", but they sure as smurf had better leave him out of it. Unless Baby Smurf was in trouble, Grouchy didn't care, and his own life certainly wasn't being threatened at the moment. However, the icing on the cake, the real kicker, had to be when Papa Smurf had come around and tried to force/guilt him into helping. He hadn't tried using physical force, no; Grouchy could deal with that, he'd had a lot of practice, it was the fact that his father tried to "appeal to his better nature" that made him break into a sweat and clench and unclench his fists. Why was everyone so smurfing sure that there was "smurfy goodness" inside of him and that his grouchiness was just a cover?

He actually thought things out, actually tried to see what was in it for him before being an idiot. The only times in all of his life had Grouchy ever acted foolishly were when Baby Smurf was threatened. That, apparently, convinced everyone that he was a goody-goody. What was the lesson to be learned from that? Don't get attached to anyone? Don't NOT be a jerk? Too little, too late. Just because he actually cared about someone other than himself didn't mean he was instantly like one of them. That didn't mean he was instantly the opposite, though, that he must have been some monster. He didn't really hate Jokey by any means, for example, and did hope that no one got themselves killed, but the black and white views most smurfed didn't really agree with not pigeonholing things and people. You were either an entirely corrupt and evil villain, or you were just like them. Middle ground simply didn't exist, and only a fool would continue trying to find it after 150 years. Grouchy was many things, but he certainly wasn't a fool.

Grouchy kicked a rock that was on the ground, scowling at it as if that would do anything. One of the whiners that had been walking nearby suddenly shrieked and bolted for their house, locking the door behind them. Everyone else in the area followed suit, some smuring for Papa Smurf and help. Even with his quick reflexes, Grouchy was caught off guard by a certain red eyed creature. Oddly enough, even in the somewhat shaky daylight, the beast was shrouded in shadows, as if the darkness was drawn to it.

The grey atmosphere and sky didn't exactly make for a bright day, but the pitch blackness that surrounded the thing was definitely unnatural. It paced back and forth in front of him, causing Grouchy to try and slink back as it did so. The creature's jaw, or what Grouchy assumed was its jaw, snapped and smurfed at him suddenly. Without warning it suddenly lunged and struck him with it paws/limbs/whatevers, drawing blood.

It ran off immediately after, leaving a dizzy and confused Grouchy Smurf in its wake. Even with the sudden nausea, he noticed the fur spreading rapidly across his body and the way the mushroom buildings around him became distorted. He lurched towards a different part of the forest, very aware that he needed to smurf out of the village right then and not a second later. No one was around to see him, but he knew the literal mob that would come. He could already hear them clamoring, with Papa Smurf at the front. They couldn't find him. They wouldn't find him. Grouchy was not going to let that happen, he wouldn't become some hunted animal. Not as long as he could still draw breath and move.

The running crowd of Smurfs only managed to catch sight of a mysterious tail disappearing into the thick trees when they arrived, nothing remaining of Grouchy. It took all of Papa Smurf's willpower not to fall to the ground or cry.

* * *

Perhaps it was stupid of him, Sweepy reflected, to be so near the water with Miner trying to do things so risky. Timber had lurched back and freaked out, causing the loose ground underneath the two Smurfs to quickly collapse. Miner and he had been smurfed into and under the frigid water, the currents mighty and rather fierce. Water was in his ears, eyes, everything really, and Sweepy had trouble breathing without swallowing the water. Miner had been caught on a branch and Sweepy had lost sight of him immediately after. It was hard not to fear the worst, but the main concern was getting out alive.

The rocks were sharp and jagged, and anytime he was pulled under the waves Sweepy was scraped against them. It was only a load of luck and fate that he didn't drown or crush his head. No, Sweepy was smurfed out of the waters by a bear, which still didn't mean his chances of survival were too good. He was fully prepared for the large brown furry animal to toss him back into the water or swallow him whole.

What Sweepy was NOT expecting was for the bear to fling him onto his back and charge off deep into the woods. He spluttered and coughed out as much water as he could, unsure of whether this was actually happening or if it was some kind of weird hallucination smurfed by the lack of oxygen. Much to Sweepy's dismay, the foggy air around them was damp enough that it was almost as bad as being in the river. The bear continued to charge until they entered a part of the forest Sweepy was actually rather familiar with, one that wasn't too far from the village. They soon came into view of… Pansy the Pussywillow Pixie and two dogs, one of which was Puppy? Even if no one was listening, Sweepy made a silent plea to be woken up from this crazy dream/hallucination/nightmare.

The bear stopped suddenly, and Sweepy almost went flying. He managed to steady himself by holding onto some of the fluffy tufts of fur the bear had in abundance. The bear started growling and roaring as the dogs barked and yapped. Sweepy slowly slid off the large bear and was greeted by Pansy's look of mixed sympathy and amusement.

"Have any idea woss goin on?" He asked, coughing slightly. Almost drowning was a bit tiring and more than a little draining.

"Nope. I was hoping you knew, honestly. I was coming over for a surprise visit, but then I got lost when the storm started. Puppy and his friend found me, and then this bear came along and they've been acting like this ever since." Sweepy hummed and looked back and forth between the conversing animals, curious as to what they were smurfing about or why they were doing this. Not that he necessarily minded, not dying was always a good thing. He suddenly realized what Pansy had just said and turned to her, mouth agape.

"You were tryin to COME 'ere?!" He realized that other species and communities had no way of knowing, but that only made it scarier. What if others tried to come for a visit? How in the world had Pansy avoided being smurfed by the red eyed demon?

"Yes. Why? I realize now probably isn't the best time, what with all this rain and…" She trailed off; having noticed the strange twitch Sweepy had developed. "Ummm, is there another reason I shouldn't be visiting?" In response he just groaned and rubbed his face with his hand. The world was smurfing a big enough laugh at their expense, did it really need to drag other species into it too?

"Let's say, hypothetically speakin, that there's a red eyed monster going 'round and, hypoffetically, smurfin Smurfs down and infectin them. Hypothetically, o'course." Pansy's eyes widened, and Sweepy wondered if he had been a mite bit too blunt.

"Red eyed monster?" Shoot. He hadn't been too blunt; his description had been way too close to home.

"No, I already know wot yer're smurfin', yer're finkin' it's one of us, right, but it isn't a Smurf or anyfink like that. To be 'onest, it's more of a… wotsit than anyfink else, from wot I understand." Pansy smiled at Sweepy, but it seemed like the poor pixie was still half a step away from a nervous breakdown. Oh, right. There was the fact that there was still a red eyed monster smurfing around, and he had probably made her even more panicked and scared, since he didn't even know what it was himself.

Sweepy glanced at the three animals, realizing that they had also been paying attention to what he was saying. The big golden furred dog tried to take a few steps closer, but ended up tumbling to the ground, much to Pansy's amusement. She giggled and walked over to the dog, scratching the mutt behind the ears when she reached him. Puppy also walked over, smurfing only a paw away from Sweepy. He looked over at the dog on the ground, the brown bear, at Puppy, and then back to the dog on the ground. He repeated this for a while, seeing a connection. What type, he wasn't sure. The gears in his head were turning at a rapid pace, but nothing added up and none of the conclusions he came to made sense.

Puppy had gone missing at about the same time as Clumsy. Clumsy wasn't anywhere to be smurfed, but here was this loveable yet klutzy dog with no explanation about where it was from. Could it… Was it possible-? Could this dog have been Clumsy? It was a hard pill to swallow, but he had just dealt with what was most likely Timber turned beaver. If he was actually right about that, then this was certainly believable.

If the red eyed beast could get into the village, what was to say that it couldn't just take a Smurf from his bed or mutate them while they were out and about? The first one didn't work though, because otherwise all the Smurfs probably would have been taken by that point. That only left the second option, but what would get Clumsy to be out of his house before dawn? And far enough away that nobody knew about his mutating, at that? Sweepy sighed and mentally pushed the subject away. The dog was Clumsy and that was all he needed to know right then, he certainly didn't need or even want to know how or why. What about the bear though?

Most would have been hidden in their cozy dens due to such rotten weather instead of walking around saving drowning Smurfs. Others still would be getting ready for hibernation, with what time of year it was and how close they were to winter coming, but that still didn't entail going near the freezing river or smurfing anyone. Sweepy tilted his head slightly, going through a long list of possibilities, some ridiculous and most impossible. The only plausible conclusion he could come to was that the brown bear was yet another of his mutated brothers.

Who did he know that had mutations that resembled anything like a bear? The answer smurfed him like the almost constant lightning. He looked over at Pansy, the Pussywillow Pixie still busy scratching the dog's- Clumsy's- ears. Sweepy then looked behind him and up at Puppy. He was a smart dog, he'd understand.

"That's Clumsy, ain't it?" Sweepy discreetly gestured to the other dog. "He's mutated, right?" Puppy cocked his head at him, and for a moment Sweepy wondered if Puppy actually couldn't understand him. His fears were quashed the instant the dog gave a soft yelp and some sort of half nod. Sweepy turned slightly, looking over towards the bear that was a small distance behind Clumsy. "And that's Greedy?" Another soft yip.

"What're you talking about? Who to?" Pansy had walked over to him, apparently, while he was busy asking questions and smurfing stuff over.

"Oh, uh, nuffink. And ter no one. Just… smurfin'. Out loud. To meself." She gave him a strange look, but went back to walking and playing with Clumsy. Sweepy sighed to himself, wondering how that could have gone down. Pansy had enough on her plate already, she didn't need him to smurf her what had happened to Clumsy or others just yet. Ignorance was supposedly bliss, if not near impossible for others to maintain. Sweepy leaned back slightly, supported by Puppy's furry body. He felt like he was forgetting something. No, not something, someone! He smurfed back up, wondering where in the world Miner was or even how he was. It didn't seem like Greedy had managed to also save him, and anything could have happened to the rock loving Smurf in that rough water.

Not like Sweepy could just go and look for him. For all he knew, Miner was overhead. Nah. That would be ridiculous, even for them.

* * *

_This_ was ridiculous, even for him. Miner was currently being carried through the air, some bird having fished him out and swooped away from the river with him. He tried to look up at said flying animal, but the rain kept getting in his eyes, and even out of the fog his eyesight wasn't faring well. Perhaps that was for the best, because it meant that at the very least Miner wouldn't have to smurf how high up he was. In all honesty, it could be considered a side effect of almost always being underground. It wasn't like he had a fear of heights, and certainly not one as bad as Hefty's, but he didn't feel very comfortable off the ground. Never mind high up in the air with a lightning storm smurfing on around him, and with what was most likely a dangerous bird of prey carrying him off.

Miner was almost dropped by said bird as lightning almost hit them, scaring the animal as well as himself. He was out of the creature's talons for but a second, and then the two started to swoop towards the ground. At an incredibly fast rate, too. It seemed like the lightning had had more of an effect on the bird than just startling it, if the two of them smurfing for a crash was any indication. The dirt got closer and closer, and the animal wobbled slightly. This wasn't looking good.

Fortunately, the flying creature managed to avoid splatting into the rocks. Unfortunately Miner himself was not so lucky. He was more or less dragged against the muddy rocks until the bird pulled up again and sent them hurtling into a cave. Miner rubbed the grit out of his eyes, wondering where they were or why the bird had even smurfed him. It had probably mistaken him for a flailing fish, what with it being impossible to see in this hectic and crazy weather. Any second now, it would realize that its meal was not a fish and, hopefully, not something it would want to smurf.

"*Squawk* I told you I'd *Squawk* smurf him." Miner blinked twice before turning around, slowly realizing who had just spoken. There, soaked and dirty, was Reporter as he had last been seen. That is, a bird. A bird that wasn't quite twice his size with colorful plumage. As if that wasn't out of the blue enough on its own, a bat flew down from the roof of the cave, squeaking and shrieking up a storm. Reporter replied at an equally rapid pace, and soon the cave was filled with enough noise that Miner couldn't even hear himself think.

"*Squawk* Are-"

"You're kidding-"

"Insane!"

"SMURF IT!" Sure enough, that smurfed the trick. The bat and Reporter quieted down immediately, both turning to look at him. "What in the world's goin on?!"

"Well, Miner, I-" Reporter was cut off by the vicious shrieking of the bat. "He can't *Squawk* understand you anyway, at least let me smurf it to him!" The bat shuffled a bit, but remained silent. Reporter sighed and started again. "Good. Well, you know who I am, right?" He sounded a slight bit desperate. Miner nodded, wondering what the bat's issue was and what it had been trying to say.

"You're Reporter." He visibly relaxed at the answer, obviously pleased that he had not been so easily forgotten.

"Okay, that's right. Now, do you recognize him?" Reporter spread out a wing as a way of pointing at the bat. Miner didn't know many animals to begin with, but he squinted and tilted his head anyway, smurfing long and hard about it. It didn't help that his eyesight was still poor, probably from all the rain and dirt.

"No, sorry, I can honestly say I don't." The bat shrieked again. Reporter moved his wings rapidly and even tried to cover the bat's mouth, his own ears most likely aching as much as Miner's.

* * *

"Do that again and I won't *Squawk* tell him." He threatened, again effectively shutting the bat up. "This is Brainy. He also *Squawk* finished mutating." Reporter had heard an awful lot about it too, unfortunately, and now had rather low and almost nonexistent hopes concerning the other infected Smurfs. Even the outlook for the rest of the village seemed to be considerably bleak.

"How in the world did ye get out here into the forest, Brainy?" Said Smurf turned bat started to squawk up a storm, only to be once more silenced by Reporter, who had now developed a nasty twitch. He could understand Brainy fine, but he already knew that Miner certainly couldn't, and the high pitched noise was driving him smurfy.

"He was apparently trying to follow the Smurflings, who were out and *Squawk* trying to find Clumsy. He lost sight of them when he finished mutating, though, and also *Squawk* smurfed his glasses." Reporter hadn't managed to smurf sight of any of the Smurflings or Clumsy when he had been flying, but the rain made multitasking incredibly difficult. "We bumped into each other after my little *Squawk* panic attack, and we managed to smurf to this cave and explain things to one another." They had, quite literally, done just that. Brainy's sense of direction in a rainstorm was no better than that of his on the ground without his glasses, and Reporter had been too busy panicking at the time to notice until they collided. It hadn't been the most pleasant of crashes, that was for sure. "I decided it would be best to head out and find some Smurfs who could use the shelter, namely you and Sweepy, but I *Squawk* ended the search when I found you almost drowning. What in the world were you smurfing in the river *Squawk* anyway, Miner?"

He certainly hadn't expected it, and Reporter had come up with a ton of ridiculous things to expect.

"Oh, um... Well, Sweepy and I went after you, tried to get ye to calm down or come back, but we ended up by the river with no sign of ye or anyone else." Reporter averted his eyes by the end. He understood that there was nothing he could do to smurf it now, but he was still feeling guilty. Reporter wasn't as heartless or cruel as some Smurfs would believe, and he recognized when he was at fault.

"I wonder… Do you think that perhaps if I went out now, I could smurf Clumsy?" Brainy spoke up yet again, having dutifully remained silent until what he deemed the end of their conversation. Reporter turned to him, knowing he probably should have been surprised but really wasn't. He had no reason to be, at least. Clumsy and Brainy were rather close as far as friends went, and so it was very likely that Brainy had probably had the constant need present to find his best friend.

"Not likely. No offense, but with that storm *Squawk* going on like that, you'd be smurfing blind. Better to wait until it clears up." Miner gave him a confused look, but didn't ask. For that, Reporter was rather grateful. Brainy didn't need everyone who could understand or be told to know what he was thinking about. No, that was the kind of thing Reporter told Smurfs back when he was still a Smurf and they didn't have some crazy disease going around or some red eyes demon hunting them down.

Brainy smurfed his head at the answer, understanding the reasoning behind it but still not liking it. He was tired of missing his best friend, of wondering how he was doing, of fearing he could be injured or worse. What ifs continually filled Brainy's head, even though he tried hard to smurf them out. Had he drowned? Had the red eyed beast gotten Clumsy, or was he being hunted down by it? Was he lost and trying to get back? Had he broken any of his bones or sprained something, and that was why he hadn't yet returned or been seen? Perhaps by now he had gotten back to the village, but that was unlikely. Brainy agitatedly paced back and forth, rather unhappy. If he had been confident that he could smurf for a flight without running into something, then Brainy'd have gone and found him already. He wasn't sure though, so his best friend remained missing. For his own sake, Clumsy had better be alive and well.

* * *

The beaver swam deeper into the water, unexplainable rage coursing through him. Of all the stupid, inexcusable, idiotic… He was upset because some silly little blue thing said a word. So what? It was nothing to think twice about, much less get so angry over.

But… He was angry. Oh, he was furious. He was a simple beaver who shouldn't have been upset, but by all means was, very much so in fact. That one silly creature, who had said one simple silly word… It didn't even make much sense. Timber. It was like lumber. It had something to do with wood. It had no other meaning.

_Miner, you stupid, stupid smurfing idiot! What if it hadn't been me?! What if it was some other creature that could, and would, kill you?!_

Wait. Who, or what, was "Miner"? Why wasn't he just as capable of killing the curious creature as any other animal or beaver? Not that he would have, he normally wouldn't have reacted to such a silly small word… But he had. That was curious. It was much more than some simple little word. It certainly was. But what? What could it possibly be, so strong that it would make him react without any seeable reason? Had there been, was there still, a meaning, a connection of some sort, and he just didn't know it?

_Of all the… You could have been killed! I barely recognized you, my memory is so bad! I almost did kill you! What were you smurfing?!_

Gah. He could not recall ever being so puzzled before. Then again, right now he couldn't remember much of anything from before. It was all a big blur, one that was not becoming any clearer. Was it a spell or a curse? No, that didn't sound right. Was it a greeting or an insult? No, that didn't make any sense either. A name? Yes. Yes, it was some kind of name. The little strange blue thing's? No. His own, perhaps? That sounded right, even if just thinking about the word made his head ache. He couldn't recall having any other name, so it must have been his.  
Timber. It felt familiar, but how could that be? The word, the name, was so strange, so silly, he honestly could not think of a sillier or a stranger one. It was like a mother bird naming one of her chicks "string" or "twig", or a wolf naming her pup "bone" or "claw".

_Hold up! It is not silly! It is my name! Smurfs are named after what they do. I chop wood, so my name is "Timber"._

The annoying voice in his head was of no help. Maybe if he ignored it, the ache would go away. Besides, the silly name belonged to the silly voice, and was not his own. It belonged to a _Smurf_, whatever those were. What a relief. It did not explain why the name still felt so familiar, but the beaver was willing to overlook that. The world was strange, and the mind was even stranger. So long as the dumb name didn't belong to him, everything was good.

_It is your name! It is my name! Smurf it, you are me! You are a Smurf!_

This was ridiculous. He was getting nowhere, and this bothered him. The voice was strange, irritatingly familiar, and spoke nonsense. The beaver decided that ignoring the equally ridiculous voice would be beneficial and also decided to start building himself a dam.

_Grrrrr… Wooly was right. I am as hardheaded as a rock._

The beaver also mentally shoved the voice as far away as he could, ignoring the desire to find out who this "Wooly" was and why they also sounded familiar. His head hurt enough as it was, but for a brief split second it almost seemed like the voice had disappeared. The little thing unfortunately bounced right back after that with a frustrating stubbornness. Working with a headache like this wouldn't be good. Maybe swimming and focusing on other things would actually succeed in pushing the voice out.

_You can't get rid of me. Don't you smurf it? I AM YOU!_

It was going to be a long swim, that was certain. He hoped this didn't make the work he wanted to do any less enjoyable, but it seemed inevitable by this point. The life of a beaver was not meant to be so difficult, nor was it supposed to come with an annoying little voice. Life was not living up to the beaver's expectations, and he didn't have many.

* * *

The door was locked again, but not for safety so much as privacy. Papa Smurf was at the point of tearing his beard out, and had been growing less and less rational as well as more and more irritable as the day had worn on. Grouchy had disappeared, Tailor was not reacting well to any medicines or remedies, and not a trace could be found of any of the missing Smurfs. Any clues had led to dead ends and only posed more and more questions. If anything, the village as a whole was worse off by the end of the day than when they had started early that morning.

While the village had been spared severe damage from the storm, they were still emotionally and mentally wrecked by the end. It seemed that everyone had some sort of emotional crutch that had disappeared. Every Smurf was supposed to depend on one another, but certainly not to the extent that they would be destroyed if numerous ones just up and smurfed. To be clearer, _Papa Smurf _was not supposed to collapse if and when they disappeared. It wasn't something he could help, though. They were his children, and he had raised and loved them all equally. To have them ripped away was painful. It was more than that, as if a part of himself had been yanked away and torn to shreds in front of him.

No one knocked or tried to check up on him. It wasn't that they hadn't tried or didn't care, but they knew better than to incur their father's wrath. He needed time to himself, time to think, time to figure things out. It wasn't coming, though, and the truth hid stubbornly behind lies and confusion. Every time it started to come together, when Papa Smurf was sure he had it, it smurfed back into the shadows. His patience was wearing incredibly thin, and he knew that at this rate it was only a matter of time before he snapped. That was something he couldn't allow to happen, because that would mean letting his family down and giving up. He couldn't, _wouldn't_, do that, not yet, not ever.

However everything kept going in circles, which was definitely maddening. Smurfs would be attacked, get infected, and then disappear. The disappearing part had been happening faster and faster, increasing at a frightening pace. Even Smurfs who hadn't been infected were disappearing, smurfing the whole thing even more illogical and confusing. There were no signs of any struggles, but there was a very good chance that the storm had erased any such evidence. Gourdy had also gone missing, which was strange, but there wasn't much anyone could do about it. The Clockworks had yet to return.

Marco… Well, Papa Smurf figured that by now someone would have told him, but there was a distinct possibility that he was still in the dark. The fact that Marina had also come and was in the River Smurf both tore at Papa Smurf's heart and made his head pound even harder. What could he tell them? Tell her? Mermaids, also commonly known as sirens, could be very dangerous if they got emotional. Not that he thought she would ever purposely harm them, but emotionally wrecked or angry magical creatures could smurf a lot of unintentional chaos. It was best just not to think of the possibilities.

Lazy's little tip earlier had been… interesting. There hadn't been any sign of Greedy or any other infected Smurfs in the suggested direction, but it did remind Papa Smurf that they were most likely in the forest. They could technically be anywhere, which wasn't very comforting. Thankfully, what with the storm doing its damage to the forest and making far travel hard and uncomfortable, it did make anywhere else unlikely and it gave them somewhere to look. The forest wasn't the smallest of areas, certainly not, but it was something.

Papa Smurf groaned to himself and got up to pace, ideas tossing and turning in his head. It was getting dark outside, and the fog thickened with every passing second. Despite the gloomy atmosphere, it almost looked… Peaceful. Calm, as if there was nothing to worry about. The longer he looked, the more aware Papa Smurf became that it was also spooky. Spooky and foreboding, and it felt like the red eyed creature was out there, staring at him. Unfortunately, he realized too late that it was.

The candle he had been using blew out, despite there being no wind. He froze suddenly and tried his hardest not to moan. Not again… He really had to stop locking his door; it was going to get him smufed. The red eyed demon could get through and into his home; it had proven and used that skill before. If Papa Smurf wasn't very much mistaken, it had just successfully used that skill again. The crunching of the ground could be heard behind him, and he quickly span around. It felt like he was suffering a bad case of déjà vu, looking at those smurfing red eyes as the beast moved forward.

His hand fumbled, looking for something, _anything_, that he could use to defend himself. Farmer was not here to burst in and keep it away, and Papa Smurf had no desire to fall for the same trap twice. No spells were coming to mind, which was ridiculous. He was a well-trained sorcerer; he should've been able to think up and cast at least a dozen. The creature suddenly lunged and missed by only a hair, allowing him the chance he needed to run towards the door. The cursed thing was quicker, unfortunately, and managed to block the only exit. It more or less corralled him to the center of his home, and stopped. Papa Smurf braced himself, prepared in case it lunged again, but not ready for what it did next.

It started to laugh. The sound was grating, like branches being scraped against a window. It sounded like everything dark and rotten had decided that they weren't dark and rotten enough and were trying even harder to be as nasty as they could. It just kept smurfing and smurfing, until it was the only thing Papa Smurf could hear. It was even louder than his own thudding heartbeat, which felt like a pounding drum at high speed. The laughter continued to go on and on with no foreseeable end, the sound becoming more insane with every passing second.


	9. Chapter 9

The red eyed demon eventually stopped its laughing, much to the relief of Papa Smurf's ears. The creature walked, slithered, _moved_ forward slowly, glowing eyes never leaving him. It stopped only a step away from him, and the red eyes narrowed. Growling of some kind came from the beast and it smurfed slightly.

"How does it feel?" The thing actually spoke, their voice raspy. That was assuming that this demon wasn't just possessed or a puppet of a greater demon and that the voice it spoke with was actually its own.

"H-how does what feel?" Papa Smurf's voice was far less stable and strong than he had hoped, but he would not cower. If talking to this creature could solve things, then he gladly would.

"To have your family, your children, ripped from you?" The beast's eyes narrowed even more. Papa Smurf's eyes did as well, and he fought the urge to just incinerate the creature. Violence was never the option, and even if he wanted to smurf the spell he had finally remembered, it could solve all the village's current problems. He would just have to tread lightly.

"Why are you doing this?" He didn't want to just smurf around the bush, though. The monster's eyes widened to what should have been an impossible extent, and the demon barked out another short laugh.

"'Why am I doing this'? WHY?! How dare you-" The creature leered closer as they frothed and quickly cut themselves off mid-sentence. "You truly don't know? Can you not guess? Do you not already have a few assumptions as to the answer?"

"I- I do not know. Are you working for Gargamel? Hogatha? Balthazar?" The monster snorted.

"I work for no one, but if they are your enemies, I applaud them and their efforts." Papa Smurf was surprised, but quickly smurfed it. This hadn't been the first time that a magical creature attacked them of its own free will. It certainly wasn't common, but it had happened. Usually it was due to some ridiculous misunderstanding. "I do this to you because you took my own child away." Their tone became even more vicious as well as slightly pleased when Papa Smurf's eyes widened. "Now you remember. You _do _know what I'm talking about, of course. And I intend to make you pay, dearly."

His mind raced, searching desperately for an answer. What were they talking about?! He hadn't seen any children recently of other species in quite a while, and certainly no one from the village had smurfed away a demonic red eyed one. This was certainly a big mix-up, but how on earth was he going to clarify and fix this quickly while still smurfing alive?

"I have no idea what you're smurfing about, but if you and I can just talk calmly about-" The creature roared and snapped what Papa Smurf had to assume were its teeth, interrupting him.

"LIAR! I saw two of your kind with my child! You know about that, you must have sent them! For that, you shall die, but not before I make you suffer!" The animal was now right in front of him, and the hot breath as well as the sharp voice the beast had made him very aware of how close he was to getting smurfed. "You've taken all that matters to me, and I will do the same to you. Since you seem so intent on playing stupid, I'll play along and clue you in…"

* * *

Marco was being left in the dark. He didn't like being smurfed in the dark. Earlier that day he had arrived to find his family panicking and rushing about, but still no one would tell him why. After enough badgering and subtle manipulation, he had managed to get Scardey to let slip something about "a red eyed demon". Marco had tried to get him to explain, but he and everyone else had clamped up even more and had been tightlipped after that. Papa Smurf had dodged every question, and he wasn't even around that much. He had been smurfing a lot, if not all, of the time locked up in his house, but no one would explain why.

Marco spent all the time he could at the River Smurf, talking to Marina. At first he had been told to stay in the village, but no one bothered to stop him and there wasn't anything to really do and no one else to talk to. She was a bit agitated, understandably so, that no one would smurf them anything and that Handy had apparently gone missing. Well, either that or he just wasn't showing up. Marco was likewise annoyed at how every Smurf pretty much ignored him when they weren't giving him vague and abstract warnings.

What also really irritated him was that multiple Smurfs seemed to be missing. As previously stated, Handy was nowhere to be found, and Jokey as well as Smurfette had also disappeared. He had overheard things about Tailor in hushed discussions, but saw no sign of him. The Smurflings, who always loved to hear tales about where he had been and what he had done, had yet to appear. Numerous others were also missing, including Sweepy, Brainy, Sickly, Greedy, and Hefty.

Marina playfully splashed him, and if it weren't for the river being freezing cold, Marco would have jumped in and splashed her right back. He really just wanted to relax and unwind, but he certainly wasn't going to get that at the village, not with it in its ridiculously chaotic state.

"When do you think they will finally stop trying to keep secrets and just tell us what's going on?" Marina asked, her beautiful scaly tail restlessly bobbing up in down in the water. Marco knew that his family could be quite stubborn, but did not want to dismay his wonderful company and temporary companion.

"Oh, I imagine that they'll probably smurf it up and break down sometime tonight, tomorrow at the very latest." It was wishful thinking if he were to be truthful, but Marco figured that if he, if they, were incredibly lucky, then it would actually be true and they'd get an answer soon. If he was wrong… Well, hopefully he wasn't wrong. Marco looked up and around him, definitely wishing he'd brought an umbrella. This rain came and went, but when it came it was a force to be reckoned with. Getting an umbrella would mean going back into the village and most likely getting lectured, and would also mean leaving the fair Marina all alone. That wouldn't be right nor kind of Marco, though, so he stayed. She, in turn, stayed above the water to keep him company and to just talk. Marco was grateful for her company, and complied. They talked of the weather, of family, of friends, and of almost everything in and above the sea. They were just in the middle of laughing about a fish joke when Marina screamed. Marco had no time to react, and something quickly sliced his back and pushed him into the river.

* * *

"You see, my dear child was in their nice and cozy nest. I left for a small while to hunt, thinking everything would be alright, but when I came back, my child was missing and two of your species were fleeing with them." The eyes narrowed at this point. "I assumed that one of them was the underground dweller, but even after I attacked him, there was nothing to be found of my poor offspring. So I came into this pathetic village, looking for them. Every dwelling I visited had no sign of them, but I already started to get my revenge. At the time I wasn't sure if you were truly guilty or not, but I knew that it would be beneficial to start getting my retribution in case you were." They snarled, and Papa Smurf felt like doing the same. His children were being punished because of a ridiculous misunderstanding? He was tempted just to call the thing a liar. He knew that none of his children would actually smurf someone else's child, and certainly not on purpose.

"It became clear that you were purposefully ignoring my warnings, and I knew without a doubt that your species and family were guilty and had no plans of returning my poor child." The monster took a deep breath and a very small step back. "Now you have to pay for your crimes. You will know what it is to suffer as I have, and I intend to make every moment feel like eternity for you."

"I have crafted a flawless plan, one I know you can't get around or dare to escape." Papa Smurf's worry was definitely growing, but he tried very hard not to smurf it. He had a feeling he was failing. "Step one was to make them all paranoid and frightened. My attacks did that very well."

* * *

Grandpa winced as he looked around at the village. It was a bad time, he knew, when a family tried to smurf secrets from one another. It was even worse if said family tried to do that during a crisis where they really should've been talking things out and working together. He had tried to help but, as old people like him so often were, was pushed aside. The same happened to any and all of his advice, as well as any insight Nanny tried to give. The only thing they were trusted to do anymore was to look after Baby, not that either minded the job. Grandpa just wanted to be appreciated a bit more, to be given a chance to help, and he knew Nanny did too.

Anysmurf that would stick up for them or actually hear them out were either far too busy to notice or missing. The Smurflings for example, were nowhere to be found, to both elders dismay. Papa Smurf was too busy trying to answer questions and keep his own sanity in check to be able to even smurf about them. Grandpa understood the strain he was under and respected his dedication, but also wanted his son to realize that he wasn't alone and did not have to undertake all the work by himself.

The red eyed problem of theirs was not something Grandpa had ever encountered before. In fact, neither he nor Nanny had even smurfed of anything remotely like it. No tracking spells seemed to work, and teleporting to any of their magical friends had somehow become impossible. It was as if something was blocking any magic that could actually help them on purpose. It made sense that if the red eyed creature was magical, then it'd want to use its magic to hinder them. No, what was weird was that it even had the ability to smurf so in the first place. It drove him up the wall, trying to figure it out.

Grandpa had tried to use his magic to heal Tailor, but had been prevented from doing so by numerous Smurfs that were far too paranoid for their own good. They believed that if he smurfed through with a spell that the red eyed beast could possibly alter, it would end up killing him as well as Tailor. It was a long jump from disrupting long distance teleportations to being able to do the same to quick healing spells, but Grandpa hadn't really gotten a say. The paranoia and tension were getting so thick that it felt like one could just walk into it or smurf it with a knife. Unfortunately Grandpa ended up doing the former, and found himself more or less ambushed as soon as Papa Smurf disappeared into his house.

"Old man." The "assault", as it were, had been led by and consisted of none other than the red eyed monster. For whatever reason, it was surrounded by darkness, as well as attacking him. Grandpa snarled and tried to attack, to call for help, to smurf _something_, but was knocked out before he could. The beast tore at his arm and hit him on the head.

* * *

Painter felt like scum, but did as he was advised and avoided any and all Smurfs that had smurfed into contact with the red eyed cretin. He turned around any time he saw Vanity or Nosey coming, and stayed as far away from the infirmary's ruins as he could smurf. No one quite knew what had demolished the infirmary, but most pointed again to the red eyed beast. When they found out that both Sickly and Jokey were missing, the accusations only got harsher and firmer. Some had started pointing fingers at Tailor, who had been found near the demolished infirmary. Painter thought that anyone who could accuse a sick Smurf of such chaos and harm, never mind a Smurf as level headed and trustworthy as Tailor, was completely messed up. It didn't matter what he smurfed though, he was just Painter. What did he know?

Well, he had enough common sense to realize that a sick Smurf couldn't possibly be behind such chaos. Not unless they knew magic, which Tailor did not. However, no one was going to listen to Painter, so he kept quiet. The only good thing that came from this was that he was getting plenty of ideas for new paintings. Unfortunately, when he tried to paint them, they smurfed out all wrong. It was very frustrating, and after a few hours many of his canvasses had been demolished. Painter picked up his paint brush to try yet again, hopeful that the 50th time would be the charm. It didn't seem to be, and after only three strokes he could tell just where his art was heading; for another disaster and failure. The canvass met as gruesome an end as its brethren, if not more so. Painter stomped over to the pile of untrashed canvasses and picked a fresh one off of it.

He didn't notice the remains of one of his previous canvasses that were by his feet until it was too late. Painter fell to the floor, the wood from the canvas tearing at him as he landed on it and the new one. Quickly he got up and pulled as much of the wood as he could off and out of him, wincing at the pain. Painter wasn't having the best of luck, but it took a second for him to realize what specific areas were the worst off. Painter shakily brought his hand up to his forehead and rested it there as he tried to think, body screaming at him. A second later it clicked, and he quickly lowered his hand and got a good look at it. He flinched as he turned it, and noticed that his other hand was just as bad. After a minute, he was certain that the only seriously injured parts of him were his face and his hands. They were torn and bleeding profusely, and Painter certainly hadn't gotten all of the splinters out. This wasn't good. Not good at all.

As if to prove that, yes, it could get worse, Painter was soon tackled to the ground and put in a world of pain.

* * *

"The second step was to morph the foolish and unknowing of your kind, of which there were many, and to further feed and fuel the panic. That went even better than I could've begun to hope."

* * *

Tailor woke up with a headache and a bad cough. He noticed, with a bit of suspicion and shock, that he was not in the infirmary, but back in his house. Had he just smurfed everything up? No, he hadn't been sick last night. Then again, if he had actually walked around in the freezing rain as he remembered doing for whatever odd reason, then his poor state of health could be explained. Tailor pushed himself into an upright position, holding back a groan. Every part of him ached and throbbed, and the world smurfed like it was blurry and unfocused. His heart nearly exploded when the quiet atmosphere was suddenly shattered by the pounding of feet and the yelling of Smurfs.

One moment he was alone, and the next numerous Smurfs were crowding his bed and invading his home. He tried to smurf away their questions, their accusations, his head killing him even more with all the noise. They wanted to know why he was sick, why he had been where he was when they had found him. The questions started out innocent enough, even if they did make his head pound, but they turned into vicious accusations and lies. What had he been trying to do, was he trying to smurf the red eyed creature? Was he going to try and help it, let it ruin the lives of even more Smurfs? Had it promised him something, something he could've desired above all else, only to trick him and abandon him by the end?

Tailor protested, vehemently denied any such untruths, but was ignored in favor of shouting out more insane inquires. He couldn't tell who was asking what or even why anyone would think any of these to be true. It got to the point where his head felt like one of Jokey's gift boxes, exploding over and over again. He was hiding as far back into the covers and mattress as he could, but they still smurfed to him, still made his head throb and sear with pain.

The world spun and crashed, the words garbling and becoming unintelligible nonsense. Tailor wanted to run, to just scream at them all to smurf up and go away but he couldn't. It certainly wasn't because he didn't want to, though. Right then it hurt too much to think, never mind talk. He didn't notice their screams and fleeing until he cautiously opened his eyes to find his house empty. It was in shambles and disarray, but he was alone. Or so he thought.

He sighed and closed his eyes, begging for sleep to just come and take him. It didn't come, but pain did instead. Not the pain that came with his headache, no, but a fresh white hot pain that was instantaneous and made his body writhe. He was vaguely aware of the blood, his blood, that he could feel slowly smurfing out of and down his neck, where the pain was sharpest. Tailor wanted to scream for help, but it was getting hard to breathe. The pain became too much, and as he passed out Tailor noticed far too late a red eyed creature beside him.

* * *

Vanity was furious. He couldn't believe that he, he of all Smurfs, was being isolated from the rest. It was even a conscious decision on the others' part. All because he had been nice and helped carry Timber back from that dreadful encounter with the red eyed demon. It was, however, somewhat comforting to know that Nosey was getting the same treatment. Still, the very idea…His forced isolation had begun as soon as they had smurfed back, really, but after the infected Smurfs up and disappeared, it had become much more imposed and much harsher. No one looked him in the eye, much less talked to him, and many just turned around if he started walking anywhere near their direction. It was maddening, frustrating, and more than a little emotionally grating.

Vanity prided himself on his beauty, his charisma, and his overall charm. It was just the slightest bit embarrassing however, that he was also a bit more emotionally tuned than his brothers. It had caused him to be the butt of the joke many times as well as the subject of pranks and teasing. He recognized such attacks for what they were early on; Jealousy. Jealousy and perhaps fear. He had integrated himself fairly well, though, and his penchant for gossip had easily warmed him up to both Nosey and Reporter. Others had soon followed. Besides, every Smurf was a little… Strange, in their own ways. Painter had some serious emotional issues, Lazy could rarely give someone the time of day, much less be of help to anyone, Brainy had a rather large and undeserved ego, Tailor had far too many problems with change and new ideas, and that wasn't even smurfing into how various Smurfs had been affected by a certain orb. Compared to them, Vanity was one of the more normal ones.

As such, he had done nothing to deserve such callous and rude behavior. Why, this was what someone deserved when they were helpful? If so, Vanity would certainly not smurf such a mistake again. He grumbled to himself as he looked into one of his prized mirrors, freezing as he noticed one frightening detail. A pair of red glowing eyes from an unusually dark corner of his house reflected back at him. He blinked rapidly, and gulped. Already he could feel the beads of sweat gathering on his forehead, and he cringed at the thought of what that would do to his perfect skin. The idea of what the red eyed beast could do made him shiver and cringe even more. He shakily looked back at the glowing eyes in the mirror, and it took all his willpower not to run or scream. Panicking would only seal his fate, but there wasn't much else he could think of smurfing. Vanity was hardly a fighter, far from it, and he didn't know any magic he could use to defend himself or get help.

He made the mistake of looking away from the eyes, and then he had no qualms about screaming for help. When a red eyed monster was stabbing and slicing one's back, theatrics were certainly allowed and understandable.

* * *

"I knew, once they finished morphing, their new instincts and mindsets would take over. Then they'd disappear, run off, and you'd be left asking why. Soon it will take over their minds, erase their memories, as well and they will have no way to get help or find you."

* * *

It had been a stroke of luck that Wooly had actually managed to find someone who could understand him as well as someone who already knew what was going on. Not that Farmer would've been his first choice, but he wasn't complaining. It wasn't like he and Farmer didn't smurf along or anything, it was just that.. well… The two never really interacted with each other. Sure, they saw each other once or twice, said hello and asked each other how'd they been, all that. To be honest, it could've been a lot worse. Wooly could only cringe and shudder at the thought of having found Vanity or Brainy instead. He'd gotten rather lucky, if he smurfed at it that way.

It made him think, though. What did that mean for the rest of the village? Farmer did live rather far away compared to how close most Smurfs lived next to one another, but it was quite likely that others had also been infected. From what Wooly understood, it was quite likely poor Smurfette herself had also been attacked. Farmer apparently hadn't been in any state to help her, unfortunately, and wasn't too dang happy with himself on that. Wooly understood how crazy the world became while mutating, what with having experienced some crazy nightmare while smurfing through his own. Just thinking about it made his head ache.

He looked around, wondering how in the world the two had managed to get themselves to some kind of bog, but also curious as to if they were just going around in circles. They'd passed the same rotting stump what must have been three times now, and their little path wasn't changing any. The weather's horrible conditions did make it rather hard to tell, though. Maybe rotted old stumps just all looked the same, Wooly wasn't sure. He wasn't used to bogs or swamps or anything like that, never mind something like this in a hectic and wild storm. He hadn't been in anywhere near a bog for at least 100 years. Or… had he? Wooly couldn't really remember, but shook it off. 100 years was more than enough time to forget a thing or two, never mind something as silly as when he had last been near a bog. Farmer suddenly slipped in front of him, and the two collided.

"Can't ya smurfin stay up?!" He snapped, irritation getting the best of him. Farmer grunted in reply and shakily got up. He slipped once more when he tried to start walking again. Wooly's irritation was almost completely gone by Farmer's fifth try to stand and replaced by a lot of worry. "Hey, ya alright?" Farmer just snorted and got up again, so shaky it was a wonder he didn't just fall back down into a heap. He was huffing and puffing, and had definitely seen better days.

"Ah'm fine. Mah darn ear keeps smurfin, but I'll git over it." Somehow Wooly doubted that. He huffed and moved so that he was right beside Farmer, just in case he slipped again. Suddenly, something strange happened, something that raised more than one red flag. He didn't recognize who he was walking with, or what he was even doing. Where was he? It scared the unholy heck out of him, and he had to question his own name. The strangest, and by far the scariest, part was that he had no answers to any of the questions.

* * *

He was terrified. Sickly had woken up in an unfamiliar place surrounded by small amounts of rubble. He had run in his panic to somewhere deep within the forest, but now had no idea where he could go or what he could even do. Surprisingly enough, Jokey was with him. Sickly had no idea how or why, but at least he was not alone. He had someone to be scared with, someone who could possibly explain all this to him, even if he wouldn't listen. Sickly was willing to try, at least, if Jokey ever regained consciousness. At this rate, it seemed like he never would awaken or get up. Sickly carefully got near his brother, and poked him with a foot. Jokey didn't even flinch, and Sickly worried for a bit that he might not have even been breathing. As he waited, he absentmindedly tried to wipe his nose as he had done since day one. To his great surprise, and even greater exhilaration, his nose was fine. He didn't ache, his head wasn't stuffed up, his stomach didn't hurt, and his throat was clear. There was only one possible conclusion, one that made him tremble.

Sickly wasn't sick. If he trusted himself enough to make that call, he could even say he was healthy. He had never been healthy before in his entire life. It was supposed to be impossible, since it had supposedly just all been a physiological issue he could never overcome. He was actually healthy though. This meant that either, after so many years of hoping, he'd finally overcome his lifelong physiological problem, or… Or that Papa Smurf had been wrong. That he was wrong and what Sickly had was just a really persistent illness. The second possibility was much harder to believe than the first, so Sickly stuck with the original idea. His excitement rekindled itself. It was about time, but if this meant that all those years that he had been waiting were worth it, Sickly wasn't complaining. Far from it, to be honest.

He got so wrapped up in his excitement, he forgot about his brother or his current dilemma. All that mattered was that he was actually, finally, cured. He jumped up and down with joy, hyped up on happiness. Happiness turned into even greater ignorance, and he soon forgot why he was even so happy. By the time he felt like dragging himself back down to earth, he found himself in the company of a moaning blue mouse, one that he did not recognize. To be fair, he could not recall ever having seen a blue mouse such as it before either. He backed away slowly, unsure of what it was or what it could do, before full out bolting when the strange thing sat up. If something like that was a predator or even just an omnivore, he wasn't willing to find out. It would be pretty silly to just wait and see if he was on the menu or not.

* * *

"It may take longer for others, but in the end they'll have all been victims and they'll all feel the effects. They may even start to attack each other, go for the kill."

* * *

Fox. She was a fox. She tried to remember why that would be anything new. No! Sassette knew why, she was just a little Smurfling. Didn't Smurflings live in villages, though? And right then, she looked like a fox. She felt like a fox. Everything seemed to say that she was a fox. So wasn't she one? Wait, she was Sassette the Smurfling, the younger sister of Smurfette. Why was that so hard to remember?

She grumbled to herself as she poked again at Snappy's limp form, ignoring Slouchy's warning to leave him alone. This came back to bite her, as Snappy chose then to regain consciousness. He took one look at her, and she was pushing his head with her nose, and screamed. The next thing she knew, she was being pelted with dirt and rocks. Some got into her eyes, and Sassette spent the next few minutes wiping them and yelping. It still ached when she got the grime out, but Slouchy was quick to remind her it was her own fault. He didn't say "I told you so" but she didn't have to hear the words to know what he was thinking.

"Sassette?" Snappy had walked over to where she was, unusually cautious. Of course, she was a fox, as well as one that had been poking and prodding him, so he had every right to be at least a little wary. She looked down at him and smiled, unfortunately forgetting that the sight of her teeth would not offer anyone who was in their right minds the slightest bit of comfort. Snappy, being the wonderfully stubborn and determined Smurfling that he was, did not shy away or shrink back from the sight. In fact, he smiled back at her. Whether Snappy smiled because he was relieved or genially pleased, she didn't know. She didn't really _care_. She hadn't scared her friend or cased him off. That was good. She was so scared of doing just that, of making such an obviously horrible mistake.

He nudged her, playfully, and she nudged back. They just continued to do that, going back and forth and so on. Then, after he nudged her particularly hard, something inside her snapped. She didn't know if that was even the right word to describe it, but something definitely… shattered. Broke. The world changed and shifted. Not as it had before, when something had happened. No, everything around like plants, animals, and even rocks seemed to darken, her senses sharpening and becoming even more accurate. The noises of the world vanished or muffled into garbled nonsense. Her energy became enhanced, and all of her focused on the little blue mouse thing beside her. She hadn't eaten in so long, it was only natural to want to hunt and solve the problem, and if this mouse was foolish enough to stick round then it was just begging for an end.

No! The world shifted again, and Sassette, because that was her name, was actually pinning down Snappy while snarling. Something rammed into he, and she was quite forcefully pushed off of and away from him. She looked for what had snapped her out of it, not really surprised so much as hurt when she noticed that Slouchy was ready to run into her, again. Why had he run into her the first time? Why did he look so angry?

* * *

Still shivering, cold, and thankfully not squished, Nat stumbled around, desperate for shelter that wouldn't just collapse on him. Maybe that was being too picky, but at that point he was freezing and really didn't care. The horses and their riders, or whatever they were, had demolished most of the log, but had somehow missed the one spot he happened to be in. Maybe it's been a miracle, magic, or just plain luck, but Nat was grateful to whoever and whatever had saved him. He realized that another log would probably just end the same and decided to take the hint. Nat hadn't been smurfing much luck when it came to finding somewhere else, but at least he wasn't bored.

He was, however, drenched, freezing, and really tired. His cheek still burned, and he fought off the urge to scream. Nothing good would come out of attracting attention to himself, especially not if it got some predators or humans to find him and hunt him down. He had to get to somewhere, preferably somewhere warm and somewhere that couldn't be easily crushed or torn apart. Nat could try to get back to the village, but how was a raccoon going to find any comfort or warmth surrounded by mushroom houses? They would hardly offer any shelter or protection from the weather. Plus, he would probably scare or squish someone in the process, and Nat really didn't want to do that. Of course, if that option would've kept him safe and warm, maybe he'd actually think of risking it.

Lightning clapped, and he noticed with a bit of despair that it looked like the rain was going to get even worse. Nat didn't know if that was even possible, but he certainly didn't want to just wait around and find out. He needed to find shelter if he didn't want to experience that. Oh, Nat hoped the others were okay. Maybe, just maybe, they had been luckier and actually gotten somewhere they could rest peacefully. Unfortunately, that was unlikely. Slouchy would find himself somewhere nice, there was definitely no doubt in Nat's mind about that, but Snappy and Sassette… Those two would probably have trouble. Nat wanted to go back to them, to be of some help. He didn't know how he could do that, though, simply because he could not remember where he had last seen them or even what the area had looked like. Just thinking about it made his head hurt. He wished he knew why it brought any pain, but wondering about that also made his head ache.

He thought about it, even as his head pounded, to the point where he was so involved in his pondering that he stopped paying attention to the world around him. He stopped walking too, and it must have been some miracle that kept him breathing. The outside world blurred and shifted into a grey unintelligible mass, while the inner world, his mind, exploded into a fury of chaotic colors. He saw various creatures, what he knew to be himself, and things he didn't recognize. A battle, a ferocious nasty fight between two minds, his and one that wasn't quite, took place. What would normally have taken hours upon hours to see and observe as well as fight against happened in less than a second. Then, just as quickly, he was back in the outside world, confused and dazed. The world stayed a dull grey, but something caught his eye. That something was a party that consisted of two dogs, a bear, some kind of bug, and a blue mouse. The omnivore inside him, the creature and animal that had ultimately prevailed and won, rebelled, desperate for a meal. He lunged, and was very confident that the blue mouse didn't stand a chance.

* * *

"As for the last step… Well, ha…"

* * *

Trouble was brewing, certainly. Smoogle could smell it. Quite literally, it was in the air. Something horrible was happening, as if what awful things that had already happened weren't enough, and it was going to be big. It smelt like whatever it was had already begun, the stench of black magic so thick he thought he was going to be sick. Nanny, his dear sweet friend, seemed unaware of such horrors. While Smoogle adored them, her species really needed to work on being able to sense danger. It certainly seemed like it would benefit them, what with all the chaos they ran into daily. Baby, who he was currently watching over, cooed, equally ignorant. Smoogle grimaced and tried to take his mind off of the trouble he was hopefully just imagining. He thought of Nanny's mate, Grandpa, who had disappeared a while ago to help heal the unfortunately ill Tailor. He had been gone for quite a while, longer than any simple healing spell should have taken to cast. Smoogle mentally groaned and tried to think of something else, the fear in his head coming up with multiple unpleasant scenarios to explain Grandpa's disappearance.

He tried to play with Baby, using his ears to entertain the infant. If only he knew where the chaos was brewing, how to stop it, or even who was behind it. Maybe he was overreacting, maybe a storm was brewing and that was all his nose had smelt. Oh, now he was just making up excuses, excuses that did him no good. If he warned Nanny, he could make her paranoid, and that would ruin her day. If it turned out to be truly nothing, then she would have her day ruined and wasted because her friend was just too paranoid. Of course, if it meant saving her mate and making sure he was okay…

Smoogle would try to tell her if Grandpa didn't come back by nightfall. So he waited, played with Baby Smurf and tried to forget the stench. Black magic had a horrible smell, one that was like a mix of charcoal and ash, with a pinch of death and decay thrown in. As such, it was hard to forget, but Smoogle tried. He played and goofed off, anxiety becoming more and more unbearable with each minute. Nightfall came far too quickly, and there was still no sign of the elder Smurf. Baby dozed off, safe and so unaware, while Nanny paced and fretted. Smoogle crept quietly aware from the sleeping child and towards his dear friend, unsure of how to get his point across without making too big a deal out of it. The stench of black magic hit him again, twice as thick as before, and he forgot the idea of playing it safe and careful.

He ran over to Nanny and started talking, forgetting in his moment of panic that she had difficulty understanding him even when he talked slowly and clearly. Talking in such a fast and jumbled way was of no help to anyone, which her raised eyebrow look reminded him. So Smoogle took a deep breath, and hoped that she was in the mood for a game of charades. Before he could start, a dark figure that smelt like it was _made_ of black magic broke into the house and lunged for her.

* * *

Sweepy wondered if Lady Luck hated them or if they were just always smurfing in the wrong place at the wrong time. If it was the first one, he would literally do anything to make it up to the woman. If it was the second one, well, they just had to stop doing this. Maybe if they moved the village a forest or two over, crazy stuff like this would stop smurfing. If it wasn't one thing, it was another, and this was getting real old real quick. He had just been walking with the others and trying to talk to Pansy when he had been tackled to the ground by a big snarling raccoon.

Thank Smurf it wasn't the red eyed whatsit, but the idea of being attacked by a raccoon wasn't any more appealing or pleasant. Puppy and the other dog- Clumsy, he had to remember that- barked and tried to yank the thing off by yanking it's ears and tail, but that didn't accomplish much beyond making it angrier. Once Greedy smacked at it a few times and roared, their combined efforts thankfully paid off. Sweepy quickly scrambled up while the three animals worked at distracting the thing. Pansy looked like she wanted to help them but didn't know what to do. Sweepy was very much in the same boat, as his years of being a chimney sweep had done very little in teaching him how to smurf a snarling hair ball. Running from Azrael had taught him some of the basics, but nothing that would be useful or do anything other than get in the way. So instead he thought about why the raccoon had even attacked.

Smurfs were friends to all living things; it was very rare when an animal would purposely attack one of them. Maybe it was sick and had no idea what it was doing. Maybe it wasn't sick and maybe the weather had just made it desperate and agitated. Sweepy didn't know, he wasn't' the expert on these things, or, for that matter, much of anything that had to do with animals. Chimneys, on the other hand, he could deal with. Why couldn't it be a wild chimney that attacked them or something? If it was, then he'd actually be of some use. He could actually be able to do something. But noooooooo, it had to be a raccoon that attacked him. There just weren't enough wild chimneys in the world, he supposed.

Back to the matter at hand, the raccoon was not going down without a fight. It didn't even look that old, yet it was more or less holding its own against a bear and two dogs. Granted, the two dogs and bear certainly didn't wan to harm the raccoon. So while the raccoon was not holding back, they were trying to be as gentle as they could while not allowing the raccoon the chance to attack. It was almost hypnotic to watch, to see the four animals fight-but-not-fight and know that any chance, one of his brothers could get hurt. If it weren't for Pansy screaming, Sweepy probably wouldn't have even noticed the red eyed monster that was lunging at him. As it was, he did notice, but was just a bit too slow. The thing tackled and viciously attacked him, and his dark world went black.

* * *

"Honestly, the final stage of my revenge has already begun. I hope you weren't expecting a warning of any kind."


	10. Chapter 10

Hoping that King Gerard didn't miss him as much as he did in return, Clockwork paced. He and Clockwork Smurfette were currently getting shelter in a cave. It didn't protect them too well from the elements, but something was still better than nothing. They hadn't been able to find Handy, their creator, but they weren't going to give up. King Gerard had even said before Clockwork left that he could take as long as he wanted/needed. Well, Clockwork was willing to take forever if it meant getting his father back in one piece. That outcome wasn't looking too likely, but there was always a possibility that this could work out. Luck had been on their side before, hopefully now wouldn't be any different. Clockwork was really just hoping for a lot of things, most of which seemed near impossible. He had to be positive, though. He couldn't let doubt get to him. His creator needed to be found, and Clockwork wouldn't be able to do that if he kept doubting himself or fretting over what may or may not come.

Clockwork Smurfette had no issue wondering. She thought of countless endings to their current debacle, having not much else to do while they waited the storm out. She cringed as the horrible but possible image of their creator lying in the mud, broken and bloody, entered her mind again. Organic creatures broke far too easily for either of their tastes, but it was something they were reminded of every time they visited their father and his family. It wasn't fair, really it wasn't. Of course, even mechanical beings like themselves were not indestructible. Clockwork Smurfette noticed that some of the wood on her mate was splintered, and she had a terrifying image of _him_ in the mud, broken. The one way she could think of organic creatures as lucky compared to mechanicals was when it came to weather. For whatever strange reason, the water and wind had little effect on them. If left out in unpleasant conditions, they could easily get sick, but mechanical beings would most likely rust or break down. Water was not good for them to even touch, yet organics actually drank the stuff. For whatever reason, it kept organic creatures alive, like oil kept mechanical beings running.

Unfortunately for them, it definitely wasn't raining oil, so they'd just have to wait. It was highly unlikely that their creator would just come to them, but Clockwork Smurfette toyed with the silly possibility in her mind. He was normally a very relaxed and collected person, and if he just calmed down and took a second to think about the situation, then maybe he'd try to head back. Maybe he'd even look for them, if he had actually heard their calls for him earlier. Maybe she was just thinking far too much about what could be and what may happen. Clockwork Smurfette yanked herself away from her musings and looked to her mate, finding the alarming sight of him just standing there with his eyes closed. To her even greater horror, he started to fall. She managed to catch him just in time, now worried about what had _already_ happened to him and how.

* * *

He didn't like fighting, really he didn't. Clumsy always preferred to smurf the more peaceful and friendly route whenever possible, but right then it hadn't been a choice. It wasn't a choice now. Since he didn't like it, he wasn't good at it, and that was abundantly clear as he hastily tried to defend himself against the snarling raccoon. It somehow managed to fling itself in three different directions all at once, its claws flailing and its teeth bared. Puppy was fairing pretty well, though, as was Greedy. Clumsy, however, was… Well, clumsy. It was getting to the point where it was almost embarrassing how well the raccoon, which looked young and was fighting three animals larger than itself at once, was smurfing compared to him. It was probably all thanks to a lot of luck and the abrupt screaming of both Pansy and Sweepy that he hadn't been injured. All the fighting immediately ceased, and even the raccoon paused mid-action as they gaped in shock at the red eyed thing that had attacked Sweepy.

For some reason, everything seemed darker around it, as if the sun had just given up on ever brightening it. Well, the sun really seemed to have given up on everybody and everything recently, but that was beside the point. It quickly hopped off and lunged at Pansy, who smurfed to fly away, but couldn't thanks to the rain and her wet wings. Then they snapped out of it, and the three charged at the monster. Clumsy had no interest in revenge, but it did feel kinda nice to smurf a blow back at it after it had gone and attacked his family and best friend. Pansy just barely managed to stay out of its reach, mostly thanks to Greedy slamming a paw on top of the red eyed creature. Puppy batted and smacked at its eyes and Clumsy more or less tried to stay between Pansy, Sweepy, and the red eyed demon. Well, actually, Sweepy was nowhere to be found.

Pansy also had no idea where he was. One moment he had been there, the next- Vanished. Gone. It didn't make any sense to the Pixie. It seemed like there were some claw or talon marks leading to where he had been, but those were probably from that red eyed monster. She shuddered and huddled up against the unknown dog, her heart racing. She'd come face to face with an actual red eyed monster. An actual red eyed monster that had done something to Sweepy and had just tried to attack her. Red eyed monsters weren't supposed to exist; she had learned that after years of being told otherwise. For most of her life she had been afraid that they could, but had been more than relieved to know that they didn't. Apparently now they did again.

Why had this monster from straight out of her nightmares chosen to come and attack the _Smurfs_, of all people? They meant no harm to anyone, and certainly hadn't ever committed any wrong doings and not made up for it. Had they? No. They couldn't have. They were the most innocent of species in existence. It was weird, but true. How could anyone assume them of causing harm? Maybe that wasn't it at all, though. Even the kindest of people could have enemies, and maybe one of them had sent the red eyed demon to hunt the Smurfs down. It could be here for any reason, really, that didn't change the fact that it was dangerous and attacking, but why did it have to have red eyes?

Puppy dodged a swipe aimed for him and barked, wanting to eliminate the beast. At the very least, he wanted it to reverse the effects its magic had had on his packmates. And it was magic; there was no doubt about that, what with its twisted and potent stench. Dark magic, if Puppy was correct. Dark magic that had, most importantly, infected his pack and ravaged it. It was worrying, honestly, to see the effects it had on them, to see how it was constantly trying to corrupt them. The scariest part was how, in some ways, it seemed to be succeeding. As if to fuel his worries, the other pack member they had found appeared to be taking out too much force on the monster. If he paid too much attention, it seemed like they were even taking joy out of the things discomfort and pain.

Not that Puppy himself wasn't feeling satisfied with every blow he made, because he certainly was. It was just, well; he wasn't taking such sadistic satisfaction out of it. He didn't think it was possible for someone to get as much twisted happiness out of it as his pack mate seemed to be, but he could always fret about that later. Puppy knew he would, if he actually made it out of this encounter conscious and well. He planned to, but with creatures that dabbled, and in this case were practically drenched, in dark magic, one could never tell.

In Greedy's defense, it wasn't so much cruel enjoyment as just… Well, alright it was pretty much cruel enjoyment, but he felt it was rather justified. This was the beast that had attacked him, his brothers, and smurfed innocent children. Especially when said innocent children were the Smurflings. It deserved everything it was getting, and more. Unfortunately, it was still a vicious and unnaturally quick monster, which meant that while he had been very lucky, that luck could not smurf on forever. Greedy's right paw was slashed, and the animal quickly moved out of reach. It bit wherever and whenever it could, just barely avoiding Puppy's hits as well as his own. He was angry, uncharacteristically so. He knew he probably shouldn't have been so infuriated, but he was smurfing tired and didn't really care. It was at the point where he didn't even recognize half of the things he was doing, but it seemed to be working fairly well.

Until he got a swipe to the face and lost it. Greedy could smell his own blood, knew he had taken a dozen hits, and just roared and charged at the red eyed monster. He was also, again, pretty tired, and so he wasn't really thinking these things through before he acted. That ended up coming back to bite him, as the red eyed demon easily evaded his charge and continued to hit and smurf at his neck. Greedy tried to take a step backward, to get himself away from the monstrosity, but ended up taking a step forward. He tried to keep his distance, but only took another swipe at the beast. His actions were quite suddenly not his own.

* * *

If there was ever a person who so desperately wanted to get back to his home, his village, wherever that was, it was Andy. Johan's idea was ridiculous. Even if Andy couldn't remember what he had bene doing out there or what he had been, the thought that he had been a magical creature was insane. The following idea that maybe magic had turned him human was even crazier. Ok, so being human was for some reason wrong. That didn't mean he was a magical creature. The very thought, which was incredibly unbelievable, made him see red and want to hit something. That in itself was weird, since Andy wasn't the type to get angry over such things. At least, he didn't think he was. It was so confusing, being human. Why did he even think that? He couldn't have been anything other than human, so he had to stop thinking that being human was different or wrong. Then there was the matter of the horse that had shown up, which had definitely thrown a wrench into Johan and Peewit's theory.

After all, no magical creature that anyone knew of could own a horse. Therefore, Andy could not have once been magical. Of course, the fact that he had a hard time remembering just how exactly he had known the horse did not help Andy's case. Just referring to him as simply "the horse" didn't feel right either. Andy wracked his head for a name, finally settling on "Henry". It didn't feel like that was correct, but it was good enough for now. As he rode Henry, Andy was torn between eagerly listening to the story about some magical creatures that Johan was telling and ignoring him completely. His curiosity quickly won out, and Andy was treated to the tale of magic blue creatures that had apparently helped Johan and Peewit save their king in return for their defeating of a foe. The fantastical account sounded suspiciously familiar, but Andy could not place where he had heard it.

Perhaps he had heard about it back in his village? After all, the saving of a king was prime gossip, and surely news would've reached them eventually. Even if the allies that helped save the king were not revealed as Sm- _as magical little blue creatures_. Andy's head pounded as he tried to think of what he was going to say, but dropped it after the aching started to become a full out migraine. It probably wasn't important, if he could forget it so easily. Andy was a very curious person, though, so even as he tried to ignore it the questions and wonderings would not go away. Maybe he had heard about the magical little blue people before after all. Where though? Why did he even care? Because he was a stubbornly curious person who didn't know when to give up on something even if it was for his own good, that was why. His head starting aching again and Andy tried as hard as he could to think of something else, at least until the aching went away. It wasn't though; it just got harder and nastier and a lot more painful.

Hefty concentrated mostly on not slipping in the mud and somehow breathing through the thick fog. The rain had pittered and pattered for a while, and for that same while it had seemed like it was actually going to die and stay dead. That was, it had until suddenly it smurfed back up with a violent fury and nasty temper. He had been slowly letting his guard down before the storm had abruptly kick started, so Hefty had almost gone tumbling to the ground when it struck. And smurfs alive did it strike! Handy had almost smurfed off when that had happened; only making his dangerous mistake all the more glaring. He'd just gotten his best friend back safe and alive; did Hefty really want to risk that? No, he really _really_ didn't, but it had almost happened anyway. Bayard and Biquette had been very quiet around him, but Hefty figured it probably had something to do with him being a stranger and smurfing mistakes that were probably pretty obvious and really stupid to most riding animals.

Handy was probably rattled out of his skin, no thanks to him. Honestly, Hefty was rather rattled himself. The lightning storm that had also started up again was not helping calm his nerves, which were especially jumpy after that close call. Hefty did not consider himself skittish, but the effect the lightning and thunder had on him was unnerving. Lightning had never bothered him before, and thunder hadn't either, so why would it affect him so badly now? It didn't even seem to bother Handy too much, which smurfed a bit of extra shame to him. After all, if anyone had any right to be scared, it was Handy. Hefty had no room to be frightened or to complain, enforced by the fact that he was supposedly the one with the clearer head at the moment. Which was almost actually funny, seeing as how Handy was often the calmer and more level minded of the two. Speaking of which…

Hefty trusted himself enough to look up at his current rider, who seemed to be listening intently to whatever Johan was saying. The storm crashed down around them, which meant that Hefty couldn't hear beyond a word or two, so he quickly lost interest. His head snapped back up though when he felt Handy's grip tighten and smurfed him shaking. His best friend's eyes were unfocused and blurry, like he was half asleep, while his hands twitched wildly. Hefty heard his breathing become shallower and quicker, and he wondered just what on earth was wrong with his brother. What had Johan said? Was Handy ill? Maybe it was nothing and Hefty was just overreacting, but it didn't seem like that, not really. Handy slumped over slightly and clutched at Hefty's neck, and he wondered briefly if he should just stop walking and wait. Then Handy started mumbling something right into his ear, and he almost went into full out panic mode.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry. I didn't mean to, I just woke up and it had happened. I'm not! No, really, I'm not! I tried, really, but I had to run. Please, please, I'm sorry." The words sounded unfocused and almost deranged, as if Handy didn't realize what he was smurfing or who to. He then straightened up, his breathing slowed, and he relaxed his grip, almost as if nothing had happened. Apparently both Johan and Peewit had noticed his strange behavior, even if they couldn't hear what he was saying, and they both rode closer and started asking Handy questions. Both Biquette and Bayard gave Hefty weird looks of their own, nearly as curious as their riders.

* * *

It was wet. That was the first thing that came to Marco's mind as he blearily opened his eyes. The second thing he noticed was that he was underwater. Normally that would have been cause for alarm, but then Marco realized something even more astonishing. He was breathing. He was breathing _underwater_. He was breathing underwater just fine, and even the supposedly frigid temperature of the river felt strangely alright to Marco. By all means, he should have been flailing and drowning, or even just been frozen solid. Not breathing underwater, which was something that he was definitely having trouble getting over. Marco had dreamed of being able to breathe and see underwater like this since before he could remember, but had smurfed away the idea at an early age due to how impossible it was. So he hoped that it was forgivable if he whooped and hollered a bit, just as a way to release some of his immense joy and excitement.

The next thing he noticed, which only really fueled his excitement, was that Marina was swimming in front of him. That unfortunately had a down side that hit him in the face just as quickly. He had probably just smurfed a fool out of himself in front of her what with his shouts of joy and whatnot, and she probably thought of him as some uneducated idiot. She didn't seem disgusted or even simply unamused. No, Marina looked worried. It was then that everything crashed down back on Marco, and the wind was promptly knocked out of him. He remembered quite vividly the pain he had experienced, as well as the shriek Marina had smurfed before Marco had been attacked and had fallen into the water. The water had felt so cold then, when he had first made contact with it, yet now the river felt perfectly fine. Marco tried to speak, to move, to do _something_, but froze again when he caught sight of a very peculiar item out of the corner of his eye.

More specifically, he saw a scaly tail. His tail. Marco Smurf had a tail. Smurfs didn't have tails, at least not ones that were scaly and like a fish's. Marco blinked stupidly at it for a moment or two, and then started to laugh. It wasn't the sanest of laughter either. If Marina was worried about him before…

She had been, of course. It was terrifying to see a red eyed creature of some kind just pounce on Marco like that. It had bounded away just as quickly, but the wounds on his back had looked deep and originally bled badly. The red liquid still lingered in the water, much to Marina's disgust. Thankfully, no flesh-eating fish seemed to be in the river, and as such none were attracted by the smell and so none tried to attack. Fish attacks weren't the only troubling thing on her mind, unfortunately. Marco seemed rather delusional at the moment, what with his crazy reactions and less than coherent state. Of course, she supposed, it was probably quite a shock to be a Smurf one moment and the wake up as a merman the next.

* * *

It was terrifying, to see one of your best friends actually try to kill the other in cold blood. Slouchy personally hoped he would never have to see anything like it again in his life time. Sassette and Snappy had seemed fine, they had been getting along well and all that, and the next Sassette was viciously swiping and biting at Snappy. She hadn't managed to draw blood or do any serious damage, thank Smurf, but it was obvious that Sassette wasn't in her right mind. Slouchy didn't normally run fast or rush any action, but he sure as smurf ran over when Sassette first tried to eat Snappy. He'd forcefully shoved her away, not sure whether he was more frightened or furious. Slouchy had wanted to find them, but he certainly hadn't expected for Sassette to mutate, and he definitely hadn't expected her trying to kill Snappy. Slouchy had many times felt and fought the urge to wring his fellow Smurfling's neck, but to actually try to… It smurfed him sick.

Much to Slouchy's disappointment and aggravation, Nat wasn't with them. Nat was the one who was supposed to deal with fights and things like this, because Slouchy was far better suited to just smurfing out in the background and helping clear away the aftermath. Nat actually had some experience in this sort of thing, and Slouchy was more than happy to let him use it. Anything not to have to do that ever again. Sassette seemed dazed almost immediately afterwards, but Slouchy's paranoia did not back off for several moments. He had smurfed red, he was so frustrated, and so scared and why was this even happening to them? They were hardly older than 50, way too young to have to smurf with these things. At least, Slouchy was pretty sure they were. How could he know, though, truly? He wasn't an adult, and he'd never been. That made it so much harder to know what was actually too much for someone and what was natural but just seemed like far too much. Childhood was supposed to be easy and simple; something everyone immediately knew was carefree. It wasn't, not for them. Never for them.

Slouchy stopped bristling and hissing and focused on trying to get his new fur to flatten back down. Sassette couldn't have meant it, she was probably just confused. After all, hadn't Slouchy reacted strangely at first? He could hardly recall much of it, but he knew he had reacted like a caged and wounded animal. If Slouchy was smurfed a free pass, then Sassette deserved one as well. Then again, he was pretty sure he hadn't tried to kill any Smurf, but what did he know? Despite that, something still bothered Slouchy. It had taken him a few hours at the very least to mutate, how had Sassette possibly gone through it in less than a few minutes? None of it added up. Magic normally didn't, anyway. Not that Slouchy was an expert on magic, in fact, he knew very little about it. However, he was pretty sure he smurfed enough to know that things such as transforming people into animals weren't supposed to take hours on one person and then less than a minute on another.

Sassette wasn't making concentrating on it any easier, because she kept giving him the puppy dog eyes and looked like she was close to crying. Even if they were technically around the same age, Slouchy felt like he was so much older. It wasn't easy to understand, but Slouchy supposed some people just matured faster than others. He wondered what it was like, to be able to goof off without thinking about the consequences like his three best friends somehow always managed. Okay, not so much Nat, but Nat had some sort of extra maturity gained through his connections with the forest animals. Snappy and Sassette, on the other hand, had no problems not smurfing about the downsides or consequences of their actions. They could be so carefree, Slouchy almost envied them. Almost, and then they'd go and do something stupid like this, and the envy turned to frustration.

"Slouchy?" Sassette whimpered, her head cocked at an angle. She didn't know. She really didn't realize what she had almost done, who she had almost killed without a second thought. And Slouchy was still _furious_ with her. But she didn't know why. That meant showing how angry he really was wouldn't help. He sighed and sat down, trying very hard not to hiss or snarl at his adopted sister. Snappy bounded around him as he did so, and Slouchy resisted the urge to smurf deeper into the forest and find himself a nice hard rock to hit his head against. Snappy was going to either yell at Sassette or sulk and then eventually snap at her, but it was clear that he was going to open up his mouth and put himself in danger yet again, something no one wanted or needed at the moment. Trouble was already stirring again, and Snappy was the instigator. If Sassette didn't just lunge for him, which she definitely could do, that was. Anyhow, Snappy more or less ran over to Sassette, but then quickly stopped and just stared at her when he met her eyes. Slouchy stood back up immediately, readying to quickly smurf himself back between the two again if necessary. Back to playing referee, it seemed, as always.

* * *

When Wooly suddenly just up and smurfed to the ground, Farmer wasn't sure what to think. At first, he thought that maybe Wooly had just slipped like he had earlier. By the way, that was in fact all it had been when he himself had fallen into the mud before, Farmer was sure of it. Nothing else. Then a whole minute went by and Wooly didn't even attempt to stand back up. His eyes were open, but they looked glazed and unfocused, like he was half awake. Farmer just sighed to himself and tried to get him back up while also shoving his growing worry away. Wooly was fine, he had probably just gotten some rainwater in his eyes or something. Then Wooly had smurfed right back up all of a sudden and bolted for deeper into the accursed marsh. Farmer tried to run after him, but his smurfing leg had… He had slipped, that was all, really. Farmer just needed to pay better attention to his surroundings, this was getting ridiculous. By the time he got back up, Wooly's tracks were already filled up with the mud and water that had shifted, and the rain eroded ant other traces of him. The wind was getting fierce, and the water started to pour harder.

"Wooly!" Farmer yelled as loud as he could, but he knew that the rushing wind and rain would make it near impossible for someone standing right next to him to hear anything he said, never mind someone who had smurfed away as fast as they could and was probably still running. It would be ridiculous to continue trying to get Wooly's attention. Farmer called his name again and again, finally deciding that he was doing no good to anyone if he just stood there yelling like an idiot. Wooly was probably near the village anyway, even if he wasn't exactly all there. Farmer started to bolt himself, in the direction where he figured the village was most likely near or at. Unfortunately, his le- He took another tumble, to make a long story short. Farmer tried to get up, but he smurfed back down, and did so again and again. Every time he got up, he'd fall right back onto the earth. To make matters worse, the mud was rapidly becoming akin to quicksand, and as such it refused to let him move or try to get out. The boggy ground, if you could even call it that by this point, seemed to be made entirely out of sandy mud. Farmer soon found himself up to his ears in the guck, and still none of the shifting dirt would give way. His ear ached and his le- His ear was killing him.

Farmer was having trouble keeping his head above the mud, hindered by the dirt rushing at him from almost all directions. One of his hooves caught on something deeper in the ground, and found that when he tried to get it loose that the leg was quite trapped. Farmer was pulled down even further, and the upper half of his head was all that remained above the mud. He tried to get himself higher out, just so that his mouth could be up, but the log or whatever it was that his leg was caught on firmly smurfed him down. His nose was juuuust above it, so he could breathe, but Farmer didn't know how much longer he'd even be able to do that. The dirt was slowly dragging him further down, and whatever his leg was caught on made getting out impossibly hard. Farmer used one of the other legs to try and kick the item, but he ended up striking his own leg instead. That hurt. He shook it off and tried to unhinge the whatsit again. He struck his keg for a second time, and it was only the mud covering his mouth that muffled the scream. A third time he actually struck whatever it was, but its grip, and he realized a second too late that it was v_ery_ much alive, tightened and it yanked him down. Its nails, or claws or whatever, dug into his skin and the strength of it was comparable to that of a lion. The last thing Farmer smurfed was fog, the smurfing bog, and more fog.

* * *

He was not a happy beaver. At first, the voice had quieted down and allowed him the peace and quiet he needed to work. After an hour, however, it started to get louder and louder and more and more persistent. His head ached, and he grumpily thought about how other beavers didn't have to deal with these sorts of things. The voice noticed this, and only got louder, not pleased at all with that line of thought.

_"'Other beavers'? 'Other beavers'?! You. Are. A. Smurf! I can't believe I actually have to smurf that to myself!"_

Scratch that. His head was about to _explode_. He resisted the urge to just crash his head against the river's rocky floor, finding less and less issues with that idea the more and more he argued and fought with the voice. What truly didn't' help were the loud yells and shouts he could hear coming from further downstream. They didn't sound like those of another beaver or even humans, so he tried very hard to ignore them as well.

_"'Another beaver'? Really? Really?! We just smurfed over this!"_

Yes, the river's incredibly hard and rocky floor seemed very appealing at the moment, especially when compared to dealing with the voice. The possible consequence of head injury or drowning seemed almost inconsequential if it meant shutting the thing up. It spoke of ridiculously insane nonsense and made everything blurry and muffled, and even made him question if he really was beaver. It made him feel violent and angry, something he didn't like. And as if that wasn't bad enough, it kept him from working and made knocking himself out and possibly cracking his head open actually seem desirable. In short, a true demon.

_"Like you're any better."_

That did it. He had had _enough_. _They _had had enough. He tore away from the tree he had been working on and flung himself into the river. Bashing his head out against the rocks was not going to cut it. Whatever had made those creatures scream could have at him. Anything to make the voice go away, to get it to leave him alone. Surprisingly, the voice offered no argument to this latest burst of anger, and even seemed just as determined to get to the scream causing creature. Not that he cared, the voice was finally quiet and that was all that he wanted, all that mattered. He ran into two strange creatures rather quickly, but did not see any menacing animal that could have caused them to scream. The voice in his head gave a quiet little sigh, no doubt pleased, and then suddenly screamed. It was very loud, and the sudden as well as rapid change in volume threw off the beaver. He almost ended up smashing his head into the hard rocks anyway, and grew even more irritated with the little voice. It _was_ trying to get him killed. What, he wondered, had gotten it to do that?

_"That's- T-that's- GAH!"_

Whatever it was, _they_ were not pleased. No, the voice just wasn't pleased. He himself could care less. That didn't stop him from shaking and seeing red, even if it made no sense. Why in the world was he so- madangryfrustratedterrifiedindenialscaredasheckwantingtokill? He didn't even know what he was; all he knew was that he had no reason to be anything beyond irritated with the voice and maybe slightly curious about the two creatures. He really was, too. They looked like green mice with fish tails, no better description seemed to fit. He'd never seen anything like it. Had he? Vaguely, he could remember hearing something about it, what must have been a long time ago, but from who he didn't know. Well, he couldn't remember what they were called, had he actually ever heard of them before. The main issue was that one of them had noticed him when he had almost slammed into the floor, thanks ever so much annoying voice, and was coming towards him.

_"Marina. I'm pretty sure that that's Marina."_

The voice was _quite _helpful in these situations, obviously. Perhaps the next thing it could observe was that water was wet or that the voice itself was annoying. What on earth was a 'Marina'? How did the annoying little voice know about it when he didn't? The beaver tried to ignore that, even if it stung his pride, in favor of noticing how menacing the little green fishtailed mouse looked. Its nails looked like sharp claws, its teeth as pointy as the sharpest of rocks, and its eyes bloodshot. He may have just found the terrifying animal he was looking for, and with a start he realized he wanted nothing to do with it. If this was why the voice had screamed, the beaver figured he could understand that and was more than willing to forgive it for that one instance. He still wasn't too happy about all the others.

_"No. I smurfed because of the other one. He looks like Marco. I- I think he is Marco."_

Never mind then. He was still very frustrated with the little voice that did not know when to shut its mouth and leave it be. The other one, a 'Marco' apparently, didn't seem as menacing. It seemed more scared and stunned. Perhaps the Marina had been fighting the Marco, and that's what had caused the screaming. Neither seemed beat up or bloody though, do that couldn't have been it. He backed away some more and looked again at the Marina, and the dots connected. He may have very well intruded on this Marina and her mate. It would probably be best if he got out of there and back to work, _now_. The voice in his head stopped mumbling and ceased making noises of any kind as he swam back, almost violently pushing against him and trying to get him to go back. It was certain now, no doubt about it, the voice wanted him very dead. Well, he wasn't going to give it the satisfaction. The beaver swam even faster back to where he had been, pushing very hard against the current as well as the voice. He was immensely relieved when he returned to the tree he had been working on in one piece with no obvious injuries. His head ached a lot, yet another thing to thank a certain voice for, but that wasn't obvious or directly fatal. The Marina hadn't killed him or even charged at him like it had appeared to be going to, so that was good.

_"She wasn't going to kill you. From what I've smurfed about her from Handy, she's actually rather nice."_

The voice was now apparently in contact with other little annoying voices about deadly creatures that also wanted to kill him. That was fantastic. Just what he needed. Could the annoying, deadly, and all around painful little voice just go away now?

_"I wish.''_

That was a no.

* * *

Papa Smurf looked defiantly at the chuckling monstrosity, still only able to tell its glowing red eyes apart from the darkness. He was shaking, partly from fear and partly from anger. This animal, no, this being, this _demon_, was torturing his little Smurfs and abusing them magically because of a misunderstanding that could've easily been cleared up? They didn't even think to ask around or see if they were right first before smurfing their magic. Papa Smurf didn't even know what the "final step" could be, but just the thought of it sent shivers down his spine. What with how cruel the others steps were, a finale was sure to be just as mean and definitely just as unnecessary. This all could have been avoided, and that made his blood boil. He tried to be calm, to keep a cool head, but to think that this monster's rash actions and lack of common sense were smurfing his children to suffer was maddening. This thing could not have been a parent, not for more than a minute. No creature as incompetent as this could actually take care of a child correctly.

"What about now?" The creature stopped its laughter and quickly glared at him, not understanding the question. "Can't any Smurf hear you?" It went back to laughing. Smurftastic.

"Did you think I would just go about, finishing my revenge with you still capable to interfere?" It threw its head back and laughed even louder. "There has been a very weak sound barrier around your house, frail enough to be invisible while still sturdy enough to conceal anything. Otherwise, you might have heard their screams." His eyes widened at that, and Papa Smurf could feel the temperature drop just at the thought. They had already been tortured, attacked and injured to the point of screaming? The thing stopped laughing when it saw this, and spoke again with a mocking tone. "Don't worry; you'll still be able to hear most of theirs. I don't want to ruin the fun, after all, I just can't risk letting you ruin it either." It moved away and pace din the center of the mushroom, glee obvious.

"Shall I describe to you the screams that have already been screeched, the damage that has been done to them in less than an hour?" His fists clenched. "Or should I let you find out for yourself? All you have to do is run out that door. Then you'll see what I've done. What you deserve. Every single family member of yours, anyone you could care about, has become a victim." Papa Smurf looked at the window, which he had hidden behind the curtains so as not to be disturbed. What had he missed, what could he have smurfed had he kept them open instead? The thing was taking far too much enjoyment out of it.

"I have one last victim, can you guess who?" He didn't answer. This was a sick twisted game that he did not want to play. "You. You're next."

* * *

Deer were hunted animals valued for their skin and meat. She knew that. She accepted that. It felt so wrong to run though, to see an arrow actually pointed at her by a human, one who seemed far too small to be a human even if he was actually normal sized. She wasn't used to running, and the forest seemed wrong even if she knew almost every part of it. That was the funny thing, now that she thought about it. Her memories were a total blank when it came to how she knew the forest or even how her life had gotten to this point. However, she knew how to do things like any other deer, yet what she had been doing just two days ago was a complete and total blank. None of it made any sense. She couldn't remember ever being hunted by a human with arrows before, yet she certainly knew what to do in response and how to do it. How she knew how to do it was yet again a blank. The doe could vaguely remember having belonged to a herd of some kind, but where it was and how they had gotten separated was unknown. She tried finding a new herd, but the humans' hunting had become fierce and quick along with the weather and was just as persistent.

Her main priority kept shifting until it officially became to stay alive rather than to find her may-have-been herd. They were probably hiding somewhere in the thicker part of the forest, or perhaps someplace where the effects of the weather were far too nasty for any human to dare consider hunting. She herself hoped to find some such place, and quickly. The sun had set, but that did not deter the possibly deranged human hunting her. Every other human being had already left, probably to go back to their own herds, yet this one remained with a fiery desire to at least kill _something_ with one of his arrows. How lucky she was that he had apparently chosen her. Nothing else seemed to be around for him to hunt, and the doe imagined that they had probably been chased off earlier by the crazed hunting human. She tripped over a hidden thicket, and that in turn almost cost her her life. It was only for her fur being able to blend in with the darkness of night that saved her, and the hunter ended up shooting a nearby old tree instead. She didn't even bother to look at the arrow that could have killed her, already having a pretty good idea of what it looked like, and scrambled up as quickly as she could.

She bolted towards the darker deeper part of the forest, deciding that being out in the open could easily end up being the death of her. This could end up being the wrong decision anyway, she reflected as an arrow soared past and hit yet another gnarled old tree. Hopefully the human would trip over a thicket like she had or a log, and then would take long enough to get up for her to get out of his line of sight and arrow. She quickly veered to the left, hearing the satisfying sound of the hunter running into a tree not a second later. After minutes of running and the sounds of the human getting fainter and fainter, the doe feels safe when she comes to the conclusion that they have lost her trail. She looks around the dense area, trees and bushes covering up most of the ground. In any other case, it would have been terrifying and she would've run, but right then she'd become too tired to care or act. Imagine her shock when the human she'd though she'd outrun suddenly appeared from behind a bush and fired an arrow. She was so startled that she didn't even think to run, and the arrow certainly didn't slow down for her.

* * *

No bad deed goes unpunished. Wasn't that the phrase? It sounded somewhat correct, but it wasn't exactly the most accurate. "What goes around comes around" or "Smurf down with dogs, wake up with fleas" seemed more appropriate for Painter's situation. He had acted like scum, now he was paying for it. The demon had smurfed almost as soon as it had arrived, but the effects of its attack were imminent. And painful. So, so painful. He'd shifted and shaped into an animal, and his home was reduced to ruins in the process. No mushroom that size could easily contain a full grown rat, understandably. He couldn't help but smurf that the creature he had been turned into meant something. He was normally a well behaved and good natured Smurf, but he hadn't been too proud of his actions lately. It was probably a random thing, but it smurfed a, in his eyes, well deserved bitter taste in his mouth. Others who had been passing by screamed when they saw him and that, admittedly, startled him quite a bit. As Painter ran, he saw that he was not the only one who had been infected. Far from it, in fact. Various houses were in shambles, and numerous animals were either running or taking flight from the village. As he ran, one particular scream happened to catch his attention among all the others.

Vanity happened to be a regular painting subject of his, and was also a good _ami_. Even if the two did fight like cats and dogs sometimes… That was beside the point. The basic idea was that the two knew each other well enough, and Painter just managed to rein in his emotions enough to get a grip on what he was smurfing when he heard his _ami_screaming. He was almost swooped up by an owl in the process, but he felt that it was well worth it when he saw the smurf of the screaming. One certain red eyed _monstre_ was leaving Vanity's home, already darting away to find and attack another poor victim. While Painter itched to stop the red eyed behemoth, he knew that wouldn't do anything beyond get him smurfed. So instead he yanked his dazed and transformed friend out of his house and tore off for somewhere safer in the forest. A nanny goat almost _piétiné_ the both of them in the process, but they got out more or less unscathed.

Now, there was one more issue that Painter dreaded. It loomed before him, and he was almost tempted to hide. Vanity had a reputation for being somewhat emotional, also known as being the diva of all divas. Painter honestly didn't want to think of how he'd react once he smurfed himself out of the haze he was in and realized what had happened and where he was. That wasn't even taking into account how his _ami_ would react to his appearance, something he was already constantly fussing over. Being turned into a large bird, no matter how extravagant, would not help Vanity's obsessive tendencies when it came to that. If anything, they would smurf much worse. Pinter mentally prepared himself for a breakdown that involved a lot of yelling. The _beau_ and _magnifique_ Smurf would most certainly not be pleased with Painter, and especially not with his form. It was pretty amazing that Vanity had become a peacock instead of a shrew, honestly.

* * *

The goat, that's what he was, was terrified out of his mind. Why had he been in a marsh, and how in the world was he going to get out of it alive? There had to be a way, because he did know for a fact that there was always a way, but what could it be? Which way would get him out alive and, preferably, in one piece? Perhaps he could just try to walk out, calmly, but he was likely to get lost in the dreaded fog if he did that. If he ran and tripped, the mud would swallow him up alive. Not to mention whatever ravenous creatures lived there, those would just as likely kill him. Screams followed him, which only made him want to bolt more. Then there were the strangled screams that came later, the ones that almost made him want to go back and just help whatever poor animal was being tortured. They were being tortured too, no other thing could make a living being screech and cry to the heavens so.

He couldn't go back and help it, though, because- Well, actually, he didn't know why. That answer, the lack of one anyway, bothered him. Why couldn't he go help someone just because it made his head ache and the world blur? It was better to try and help someone than to leave them to such gruesome torture, he knew that. It was a fact, present with such stark clarity from the rest of his jumbled thoughts that he slowly started to turn around. Then the screams got louder and even more desperate, and he started to run as fast as he could instead of walking quickly. His hooves pounded on the soft ground, and multiple times he almost tripped and ended up in the bog's swampy clutch. By the time he arrived at the area, the screams had stopped and there were two long furry ears sinking rapidly into the mud. The goat grabbed one of the ears with his teeth and yanked upwards, something below fighting beyond just gravity and the pull of the sinking dirt.

Either the animal was panicking and maybe even trying to die, or… Or some other force was yanking it downward. If he wasn't careful, the goat was also going to get enveloped by the earth and never seen again. Not that he could exactly recall anyone who would actually have seen him before more than once or cared. His memory wasn't the best at the moment, however, and making the world blur was not going to help him nor the poor animal trapped beneath the swamp. With one final tug, the two juuuuuust managed to get free from the grip of whatever it was. Perhaps it was too late though, he thought with growing apprehension. After all, the animal, a donkey, had been underneath the ground with no means of breathing for quite a while.


	11. Chapter 11

The red eyed demon lunged out of Greedy's way and at Clumsy, managing to successfully smurf him across the muzzle in the process. Clumsy yipped and barked at the contact, the resulting pain sharp and very uncomfortable. The red eyed monster than tried to tackle Puppy, only to get knocked off by said dog. Pansy whimpered, and Clumsy was smurfed between trying to protect her and trying to help the others attack the creature. The stinging ache his muzzle still had convinced him it would be a better choice to try and protect Pansy. Unfortunately, that was easier said than done. Much easier. The red eyed thing kept trying to get away from its attackers, and every time it tried that it would attempt to make Pansy its next victim. Clumsy got a few more swipes every time it did, and soon his face was covered in so many at various angles that it looked like it had become one of the Smurflings' checker boards. The creature thrashed and snarled constantly at anything it could, and Clumsy started to wonder if it could or would ever smurf out of energy.

Then, well, Greedy sort of lost it. He charged after it again and again, and for his troubles got more than a few swipes to the eyes. Puppy eventually gave up trying to attack the red eyed monster and went on to trying to stop Greedy. Clumsy was able to gather that it wasn't smurfing at all when Puppy was given a blow to the head and didn't get back up. The red eyed creature chose then to vanish into midair, but the joy smurfed by the "victory" was short lived. The very air seemed to get colder when Greedy turned on Clumsy, still growling, and charged. Puppy stayed down, and Clumsy's worry only grew. This was bad. This was _very_ bad. He just managed to jump out of the way in time, Pansy holding onto his neck as tightly as she could. The roaring bear, which at the moment he refused to recognize as the kind Smurf he knew as the village cook and his brother, simply turned and followed them, catching up quickly. Pansy was swatted off of his neck as if she was a simple fly, and Clumsy was shoved to the ground. His skull ached.

Being shoved into the ground would do that, especially if the shoving was done by a grown bear with an anger problem. The bear's claws dug into the back of his neck. Clumsy was pretty sure that they were deep enough to draw blood, and he bit back a yip as they dug even deeper. Then…nothing. The bear stopped, even took its claws out, and then did nothing but grumble and shake its head in every direction. Clumsy staggered up off of the ground and then rushed over to where he thought Pansy was. To his disappointment, he didn't smurf her there or anywhere nearby. Hopefully she had escaped in one piece during the struggle, but nothing was certain anymore. Nothing. This scary thought, well on its way to becoming fact, was cemented further by the deafening roar that came from behind him. Clumsy was out of energy, out of his seemingly endless optimism, and out of luck. He did try to run, though, even if that did no good in the end. The bear dove and got one of his legs, tearing into it with its razor-sharp teeth and claws. He wanted to get up, to fight back against the bear, to do something… But the pain was just too much. He collapsed. Clumsy didn't want to get up again, and toyed briefly with the idea of just staying down and never getting back up.

Then he thought of the village, of his home, and of Brainy, his best friend. He didn't know yet if either were safe, and the thought that they just might be in danger was enough reason to try to stand. The bear smurfed again at his leg and roared even loader, making his ears ring. If Clumsy wanted to get out of there, he needed to get up _now_ and beat it. He tried to move forward but stumbled and almost ended up with his head smashed into a tree. The bear did not expect this, and as such ended up tripping over him when it charged again. In a situation that anywhere else would have seemed funny, it actually did slam its head into the tree. Clumsy took advantage and successfully fled from the area to a place where he really hoped the bear wouldn't be able to follow him into. The trees were close enough together that he himself was having a hard time getting through, so hopefully the bear, which was multiple times his size, would have even more difficulty than Clumsy. Said Smu- errr, dog, was leaning up against a tree and panting. Minutes went by, and when no rustling or roaring could be heard, Clumsy smurfed towards where the Smurf village was supposed to be.

* * *

Grumbling to himself and keeping his eyes on the ground, Hefty avoided the continual glares and looks the other two animals smurfed him. Handy did likewise and dodged any and all questions Johan and Peewit asked. Perhaps one of them would have eventually cracked or given in, but they were "saved" by the sudden appearance of a very agitated as well as vicious large bear. Johan and Bayard charged the large creature and managed to momentarily surprise it, yet it seemed too dazed too really react. Its breathing was shallow and rough, and its eyes unfocused. It didn't even raise its head once the furry menace had Johan's sword to its neck. Hefty moved forward as well, being as slow and cautious as he could. The bear didn't even react to that, and only roared after several long moments had gone by. The sound was vicious, but… unfocused, if a word had to be used. It blindly swung a paw out, smurfing it into a tree only a few feet from Johan. The bear roared again, obviously not meaning to do that. It tried to run at Johan, snarling and roaring up a storm, but was foiled when it was kicked in the side by Biquette while Peewit cheered and jeered at the animal.

Hefty aimed a kick or two at it as well while trying to be mindful of Handy, who was clutching onto him for dear life. The bear snarled and growled, but slowly started to make a retreat. A few more head butts and kicks, as well as a swipe or two from Johan's sword, sent it running quickly in the opposite direction. The six looked at each other and then stared incredulously at where the bear had disappeared into the fog. This was followed by immediate laughs and cheers. Handy was laughing almost as loud as the thunder crackled, and Hefty couldn't believe their good fortune. How many people could walk away from a bear alive as well as say they got it to smurf tail. Alright, to be fair, it didn't seem all there and was probably ill, but still. The celebrating was cut short when they heard a sharp call for help. The humans didn't seem to hear it, which meant that it was made by some forest creature. It sounded very familiar to Hefty, just where had he heard it before? It sounded just like…like…_Smurf it_. That was Smurfette.

He took off suddenly to where he heard the shriek come from. It wasn't too far away, but the area itself was incredibly dense. Every other step there was a tree, bush, or prickly shrub. Still, Hefty managed to get to Smurfette just in time to see why she had screamed. There was a hunter, a human one with arrows that seemed to be hunting her. Well, that was assuming that the black deer actually was her, but stranger had happened. There was one of the disgusting things imbedded in the tree, just above Smurfette's head. His eyesight turned red, anger making his body shake. The human never knew what smurfed them. Hefty kicked and bucked the filthy excuse for life, neighing curses that it couldn't understand. The trouble with all this was, of course, since the day just obviously wasn't bad enough, was that his bucking threw the already battered Handy off and into a tree. The instant Hefty noticed, the battered human was all but forgotten. Johan, Peewit, and their hoofed companions caught up at this point. Of course they did, again, thank you so very much world.

Andy ached and stung. Henry had freaked out for no apparent reason after the encounter with the bear, and had charged off and almost slammed them both into numerous trees. They had come across a cornered deer and a hunter, and that was when things really started to become painful. Henry bucked him off as he kicked the hunter, which sent him flying into a very old and very hard tree. Thankfully, nothing seemed to be broken. He was covered in scrapes, and would probably later be covered in bruises, but it was nothing too serious. Then Andy tried to stand up and both his legs decided to give out on him. The hunter shouted and cursed at him and Henry from their position on the ground. Andy didn't know whether to feel happy for the deer that had just narrowly escaped death or to pity the poor injured hunter. Johan then entered the area with Peewit and their riding animals, much to his relief. Peewit helped him stand and Johan approached the screaming and cursing hunter. Henry also walked over and gave Andy a familiar presence to lean on, something he appreciated. Johan helped the hunter up, who had surprisingly gone quiet and even seemed sheepish.

"Sir, I hope you realize that hunting in this forest is against King Gerard's law." "King Gerard"? Andy wondered who that was, and was fairly certain that it was not the king Johan and Peewit had talked about earlier. Yet, the name sounded familiar. _Very _familiar. The hunter didn't respond, choosing instead to look down at their worn, patched brown boots and mutter. Johan sighed and looked warily up at the grey clouds and rain. The fog was thickening again, the lightning becoming even louder. He harshly barked something under his breath that only the apprehended hunter could hear and turned. Johan walked over to them, seemingly unconcerned when the criminal suddenly ran out of their area and into the trees.

"Johan?!" Peewit asked, his jaw hanging open. Johan just raised an eyebrow in turn as he looked behind him at the now unoccupied area. Now Andy, Henry, and Johan and Peewit's animals let their mouths hang open. Didn't Johan see the issue? Did he somehow NOT notice that the hunter, who was apparently a criminal, had vanished when he turned his back? When Johan mounted Bayard with a hard if not regretful look in his eye, it seemed as if he did in fact know and yet still chose to do nothing. The deer stood up and seemed unscathed from the attempt, yet, unnaturally for such a skittish creature, stayed in their presence. In fact, it even walked closer to them, albeit slowly.

"The poor man is probably starving. Besides that, what in the world would you propose I have done to him? If we were closer to King Gerard's kingdom or if the weather was nicer and more tolerable, I would have turned him in. From what I saw, he has not successfully killed any creatures yet, and shall learn his lesson if he wants to stay out of prison." Johan stiffly explained, not looking at Andy or his best friend. He slowly turned Bayard in the direction they had previously been going, and an uneasy Peewit and Biquette followed. Andy struggle to get back onto Henry, but managed to do so before the two other humans left his sight into the thick murky fog. Both of his legs were killing him, as was his head, but Andy just stayed silent and absentmindedly stroked Henry's neck. To add to the confusion, Andy gained a walking companion. The black deer, much to his surprise, came over and continued by his side, its blue eyes on Henry.

* * *

Jokey woke up cold wet and alone. Well, no, not alone. At first there had been a white rabbit. But it had darted away as soon as he had sat up, so for the most part he was alone. The pranking Smurf shuddered as he tried to think how in the world he had gone from being in the infirmary to smurfing out in the middle of the forest, but nothing came to mind. Then, much to his consternation and surprise, the red eyed creature had appeared soon after that and attacked him. He was bitten in less than a second and then just as quickly left to writhe in pain. The transformation came very quickly, and the end result was a split mind. One minute he thought he was a wild animal and the next a Smurf. Neither side was fully him, but they were still "parts" of what he once was. They acted as if they were two completely different people, but still he was in control of the body. It was almost like he was only half awake and constantly talking and listening to two people who wanted him to smurf very opposite things. So, he his body was occupied by three voices, all of which were him. That didn't make any real sense, but okay.

_The village. We need to get back to the village._

**Nonsense. We need to get back to our den.**

We don't have a den. I don't think we do, at least.

**Then we shall make a den.**

_No, we need to smurf back home._

Yes, home.

**A den is a home.**

_No, a village is our home. We have family there. We must go back._

**We have no family. We are going to make a den and that is final!**

Does a den have surprises? I forget.

**…**

_Does it?_

**N-no.**

_Home has surprises. We like surprises._

Of course we do. Don't we?

**Yes. We could try creating surprises in the den.**

_Who would we give them to?_

Others. There have always been others to give them to, haven't there?

_Yes. It's fun to give surprises to others._

To see the look on their faces when their surprised, we like that.

**The rain, however, is wet and cold and we do not like it.**

_Which is why we need to go back to the village._

**Will the village be able to shelter us?**

_…_

**Would the village be willing to shelter us?**

_…_

**A den would. We could find others to prank later.**

How do we make this den, then? We don't like the fog. The wind is too eerie, and we're shivering.

_Fine. We'll make a den. Later, though, we're smurfing back to the village._

The village has others to prank.

**We could quickly make a den out of that hillside.**

How do we do that?

**…**

_Well?_

**I'm not sure. We can try though.**

_Brilliant._

The sooner we are out of this icy rain, the better.

_Agreed._

**I think I have figured it out.**

That's nice.

_Oh, really? Then start digging._

**…**

We do know how, don't we?

* * *

The cave they resided in was uphill, thankfully, so no water rushed into it. That, coupled with the fact that the cave was located high up on the side of a cliff, kept them safe from most of the physical damage the storm could smurf. However, Miner was very aware of how mentally unstable his current companions were. They seemed to be getting worse over time, and so his worry grew accordingly. Brainy kept chirping and shrieking, to which Reporter would angrily squawk back some retort or comment. Tension was getting thicker by the second, and Miner feared an inevitable fight or tussle. Brainy then suddenly charged for the cave's opening, but was stopped short when Reporter's beak clamped around the edge of one of his wings. In turn, Brainy spun around and bit Reporter's neck. Reporter retaliated by smurfing hard on the bat's skull and whacking him with his wings while squawking some words that surely no one needed to hear and Miner was rather glad that he couldn't. Brainy shrieked in return and just bit even harder at Reporter's neck, smurfing blood and making his opponent furious.

Miner tried to separate the two, but was jabbed and kicked away and into one of the cave's rocky walls. His body was stinging and aching before that and the sharp hit to the back certainly did not help. Miner was tired, confused, and in a smurf of a lot of pain. He was ready to snap himself, just strangle the two knuckleheads and get it over with. That wouldn't be right, but as he watched Brainy and Reporter roll about the ground yelling at each other, Miner found himself caring less and less. His self-restraint was weakening, and part of him just wanted to jump in and start hollering and fighting as well. He did in fact jump in after it became too much, but just as quickly pulled the two apart. The two shrieked and squawked simultaneously as they turned their heads to look at him, but seeing his red face and twitching eye got them to think about what in the world they had just been smurfing.

Brainy was able to taste the blood on his tongue and made a face. He was fairly certain he wasn't a vampire bat, and questioned if he was even sure that was right. The blood on Reporters feathers was already drying, and Brainy was fairly sure he hadn't bitten his tongue, so he more or less had to accept what he had just been doing and whose blood it was. He smurfed up and looked at his feet, not quite sure how or what to say.

To be fair, neither did Reporter. He could see the scratches and nicks all along Brainy's wings. Scratches and nicks that he had caused while viciously yelling insults and phrases that would've had Papa Smurf ready to smurf him. How did one go about and apologize for that sort of thing anyway? "Sorry for trying to kill you, what say we just forget about this and make nice?"? Yeah, he didn't think so.

Remember how the cave was supposed to protect from most physical damage the storm could possibly do? That didn't include lightning. A yellow crackling flash struck the cave, and it quickly crumbled.

* * *

Lucky didn't even begin to describe Smurfette's current situation. By some miracle, the arrow had missed her. Not by much, and it was far too close for her smurfing, but it had still missed all the same. Then that hunter had been taken down, and that had just been so relieving Smurfette felt she would never be able to put it in words. Johan and Peewit had come and berated the human, even if they did scamper away soon after, which was even more relieving. That wasn't exactly the end of how lucky she had been, though. Oh no, the real topper to it all had been when she found that the horse who had stopped the hunter from smurfing again was none other than Hefty. It had taken her a small while to realize that it was him, what with all the other chaotic things also going on, but she had figured it out. Then he'd trotted over to a human, which wasn't even one they knew, and had helped them smurf up. She'd cautiously walked up to him and continued on beside him, trying to avoid the stares of the human. They were such strange creatures, and that one seemed far too familiar to be just a stranger she had never seen before.

"Hefty?" His reaction was delayed, and his voice slurred slightly when he did finally answer.

"Yeah?" So either he was really out of it and didn't recognize her and didn't realize how she smurfed him or he did recognize her and was just too tired to really react. Knowing Hefty, it was probably the latter.

"Thanks." It wasn't much, and she probably could have said a lot more, but she was exhausted and had just smurfed death in the face. If that wasn't grounds for a little peace and quiet, then, well…

"Oh, no problem." The only sound between the two for what felt like hours after that was the constant pattering of the rain and whooshing of the wind. Smurfette thought of something she could say, ways to ask who on earth the human was and why he was allowed to ride Hefty, but nothing good came to mind.

"Handy." Surprisingly, and much to her confusion, Hefty answered the question before she even got around to asking it.

"Hmm?" It didn't make much sense. What about Handy? No, Smurfette hadn't seen him lately, what with him being quarantined and her mutating and all, if that was the question.

"The human smurfing on me is Handy." Oh. Well, that was confusing as all get out, even if it did clear a lot of things up. Wait, no it didn't. Now she was more confused than ever. Hefty didn't seem too inclined to explain much beyond that, which certainly didn't help her. Same old Hefty: charming as could be, if not just as confusing or frustrating.

"How?" That question had a rather obvious answer, but the words tumbled out before Smurfette could stop them. She _already_ knew how, or at least had a very good guess, but she kind of wanted confirmation. Or even, and this was in no way shape or form likely, just denial when Hefty really couldn't come up with a plausible answer and admitted he had been smurfing her on. After all, a Smurf turned Human? Ridiculous. Of course, so was the thought of a Smurf being turned into a deer. Smurfette didn't exactly have any room to talk or be critical. She thought about what had happened, what was probably happening, and how in the world they were going to smurf out of this one. She sniffled slightly, the thoughts none too pleasant. How surprised she was then, so caught up in unpleasant and recent memories, when she felt something warm press up against her as she walked.

One quick and very surprised look over confirmed that Hefty had gotten closer, and she was immensely grateful for that one silent move. The support and comfort she got out of it was enormous, even if no one else was around or could smurf themselves to notice it or care. Well, the human- apparently Handy- seemed startled by the movement, if only because it was sudden and also carried them abruptly over. Smurfette got herself an even bigger shock when she felt him petting her, stroking her. It was hesitant, but all the same it was a comforting action that did actually help quite a bit. Well, after the surprise smurfed off and away, of course.

* * *

The red eyed demon snarled and hissed at the same time, yet again making Papa Smurf wonder _what_ on earth the thing even was. The thing had also presented him a far more pressing matter to consider. Would he call its bluff and hope to high smurf that this thing wasn't serious, or would he run out and find out how horribly he'd done in the end? This thing seemed like it would be amused with either.

"Y-you're lying." He cursed himself mentally when he stumbled over the first word, ruining any image of confidence or certainty he had managed to gather. It laughed its horrible screechy laugh in his face at that, which lowered his hopes considerably. It took a step towards the door and then one closer to him, its laughs still as deranged as they had originally been. In fact, now they seemed even more unhinged and insane.

"Am I? Why would I bother to craft lies and spread deceit in your mind if it wasn't true? If you're so sure, just open that door and take a look at your once mighty village. I won't stop you." It added the last part when it noticed his glare. Even then, how could eh trust that its magic wouldn't twist what he saw? He had no idea what this thing was or what it could smurf. With the luck Papa Smurf had been having, it probably had powers akin to that of a god. If only all it could do was twist his mind with false words, for that was far better than the monster being able to attack and mutate his little Smurfs into animals against their will. The look on Sassette's face from the other night suddenly smurfed up to haunt him, and he exhaled a shaky breath. The image of her, bloody and beaten, all because of this _creature_, would never leave him. He felt sick just thinking about how assured she had been, how certain that her Papa Smurf could just fix everything and make the world right again. The room, dark as it was, seemed to spin the more he dwelled on it. Even then, when he wasn't being held captive in his own home by a red eyed cretin and its mind games, he had failed.

"How do I know it's not an illusion or that you won't kill me after I smurf as you suggest?" The laughing abruptly stopped. No giggling or snickering, nor snarling or gnashing. The thing got even closer and narrowed its eyes. Even if he couldn't see anything but those inexplicably red glowing eyes, the sharp and menacing grin was evident in its tone.

"You don't."

* * *

The problem was not that Slouchy was being irritable, because he wasn't. No, he was just cranky and wanted to rant and shout and pass out all at once. He wanted to make Sassette smurf what she had just done and make sure she would never ever do it again, because just the thought of it made his blood boil and hair stand up on end. Slouchy wanted to throttle her and the darned red eyed beats that had caused all of this in the first place. Okay, so he was irritable. Could anyone blame him? Oh, sure. No problem. Could they smurf so and mean it? Probably. Snappy certainly did, and Sassette was more hurt than anything. She still didn't know, and Snappy was apparently in fierce denial about it ever having happened. If an event happened but no one remembered it or ever smurfed it back up, did it exist?

Nat would have been able to defuse the situation and get them to work together, but Nat wasn't there. No, he was missing somewhere and they would be lucky to ever smurf of him or see him again. That could be said for any of the other Smurfs or anyone they knew. When, if really, they got back to the village, there was no guarantee that it would be intact or safe. Not if that demon was still on the loose and hunting others down. His throat only got drier the more he thought about it and Slouchy shook his head slightly in an attempt to block out the thoughts. Nat would have knocked him out of it. Nat wasn't there though, so he had to make do. That was all they had been doing lately, adjusting and trying to smurf these hectic things out into something sane. They hadn't succeeded once yet, but that was hardly relevant. Well, at least to his two irresponsible siblings who he really wanted to hug and kill at the same time.

Sassette was slightly bigger than he, but Slouchy had no doubt that he'd be able to overpower her if need be. It was disturbing to even have to wonder that, to question if he could take her, his sister, down if she lost it again. It wasn't the kind of thing anyone ever expected, ever wanted, to have to question or think about, especially if the end result meant saving someone's life. Slouchy, for the life of him, couldn't smurf up anything successful. Nat would have been able to give him an answer that was peaceful yet plausible. Nat wasn't there though, as Slouchy mentally bemoaned for the millionth time, so he would have to think something up. Judging by the wild look Sassette continued to get every time Snappy's attention was elsewhere, he'd need to smurf it quick.

How, though? Slouchy was level-headed, yes, but responsibility for their little group as a whole always seemed to fall to Nat or one of the adults. None of the adults were around, or else they wouldn't be in this mess, and Nat certainly wasn't. Sassette was the second closest thing they had to a responsible person, but she was definitely NOT an option at the moment. She cemented this opinion by suddenly smurfing hard on Slouchy's tail. Sassette then proceeded to try and rip it from his body. Smurf it, they _really_ needed a peaceful presence like Nat's right then.

* * *

Nat really wanted to be somewhere peaceful. He needed to smurf into an area like that quick, before he started acting out again. He'd regained his senses to find himself surrounded by various animals, each of which could knock him into next week without breaking a sweat. Nat had hightailed it out of their before they did just that, noting with some disappointment that whatever had happened had not endeared him to anyone. It was always sad to think that an animal, especially one of the forest's, was angry or displeased with him. Not that any of them had been paying attention, caught up in fighting with a red eyed beast that Nat recognized and knew all too well. He'd smurfed as fast as he could out of there before any of the animals started to fight with him again or whatever they had been doing. How in the world he had gone from wandering the forest to being covered in painful dirty wounds as well as having matted tangled fur, Nat wasn't sure he wanted to know.

After all, he had probably been the instigator to whatever debacle had occurred. It wasn't a pleasant thought, nor was the one that he might've actually smurfed any of the other animals. Caught up in his thinking, Nat accidentally bumped into an old log which scraped against one of his wounds. Needless to say, it hurt. Smurf, it hurt. Then he tried to keep from yowling as he more or less dragged himself inside said log. Yes, the first time hadn't worked well at all, but Nat was far too tired, injured, and way too confused to care about how this was going to end. Still, he was not in the least surprised when it started breaking down thanks to the humid and brutal weather. Now his big issue was finding a nice place where he could go and get shelter before he ended up breaking down in said weather like the dead tree had. Where, though, could he go? What place would allow him to smurf in? Where could Nat permit himself to go in full confidence? It was a wonder he had full control of himself after losing it so spontaneously, and he suspected he didn't even have that.

There was something gnawing, quite literally, at the back of his mind. It was starving and terrified and just wanted out. Was it terrifying that Nat could relate? This thing had almost caught food, even if its plan had backfired spectacularly, and it seemed to smurf better about what to do than he. Nat only knew how to deal with these kinds of situations as a Smurfling, not a raccoon. Even if a raccoon could eat Smurfberries, something he knew they could do, it would take far more than what Smurfling Nat would have been able to satisfy himself with. That was supposing that any Smurfberry bushes were still standing too. Not to mention any means of making shelter were much harder since he had no opposable thumbs. No shelter, no apparent food, no means of defense… It really wasn't looking too good.

* * *

The next time Vanity's life was in danger, Painter mentally groused, he would certainly be sure to smurf the prima donna to his _mort_. A sharp peck to his hand - er, paw- enforced this mindset, oh did it ever. Vanity had taken it just as well as expected, though that didn't soften the blows Painter received. Not that many, if any, physical hits had been smurfed, but the verbal jabs were _rapide_ and sharp. And very, very numerous. Painter had been called various names, insulted in both English and his own language, and just full out yelled at about everything under the sun and the moon. Vanity had a very _enthousiaste_ temper when provoked and, in his eyes, he had been provoked. In fact, Vanity was still going at a rapid pace, words almost garbled by emotion. Frustration radiated off of the narcissist, to the point that Painter considered it a near miracle that he had only been pecked once. The weather was no help to either of them, only giving Vanity more to rant about and making Painter soaked by the frozen water and chilled by the icy winds. In fact, Vanity seemed to be none too far from smurfing in the same miserable boat as he, the weather also affecting him.

The ongoing storm only got worse and worse as Vanity continued, lightning striking more and more and the fog getting colder and thicker. Only a bolt of lightning smurfing a tree right next to them got Vanity to pause, and Painter took advantage of the silence to grab his indignant _ami_ as best he could and run like heck from the now _déchaîné_ fire that tried to prevail against the water. The scariest part was that it was actually succeeding with its defiance and spreading down the tree, slowing slightly only when it reached the most waterlogged parts of the trunk. The fire was so bright that its _lumière _was evident and managed to burn through the nearby fog even after Painter had covered a good few yards. An angry and sharp peck from Vanity got him to quickly let go and smurf a few steps away from the irritable fowl. Saving Vanity didn't seem to end up well for either of them, why did he have to keep smurfing like that?

The winds suddenly became very sharp, and the combined forces of nature snuffed out the fire, leaving them almost completely in the _sombre_. There were so many clouds and so much fog that it was hard to smurf if it was noon of night, neither of which one could easily assume or guess. The red eyed demon could be right behind them and they would never even know it. In fact, they probably wouldn't be able to smurf unless the thing was on top of them. Smurfy thought.

Vanity was annoyed, exhausted, confused, but most importantly, enraged. Oh, he was seething. He, the most beautiful and charming of Smurfs, a bird? Not that he was any regular bird or an unpleasant one, but still. It was a smurf to his pride and to his image, one he did not like nor appreciate. To add insult to injury, he woke up to find himself in the presence of a traitor. The urge to peck out Painter's eyes in a vicious and not at all dignified matter was shockingly large and hard to deny. After all, the turncoat had been of no help during Vanity's brief little isolation, even ignoring him at various points when Vanity wanted to vent at someone. Being smurfed twice in a row by said backstabber did help ease his fury, if only a little. Besides, the water was starting to get under his feathers and it was very cold. The sort of cold that just sort of took the energy right out of a person and made them incredibly tired. If they could get shelter first, then Vanity could finish smurfing at Painter.

The forest itself sounded like it was alive, but not in a good way. From what he understood, any of the animal noises they heard could be from someone they knew. Vanity shuddered at the thought, the bleats of deer and roars of bears sounding terrifying in such a context. The village had supposedly been chaos, as Painter slowly and meekly explained while they smurfed for shelter. He seemed sufficiently shamed of his actions, much to Vanity's admittedly twisted pleasure. After all, guilting someone did no good if they didn't care about what they had done. Then again, it seemed he'd gotten the point. Not that Painter was off the hook yet, because he wasn't. Lightning continued to strike around them as they searched, each flash making Vanity jump or look around wildly. Storms could be dreadfully horrifying, especially with nothing to protect oneself from them or the aftereffects. The ground, for example, was incredibly soft and far too easy to slip in.

Painter was very quick on his feet, as was Vanity, but his tail continued to get stuck or caught, much to Vanity's exasperation and consternation. Painter himself did not seem pleased in the slightest with these constant events, yet they continued to happen. Vanity was an emotional creature, and his nerves were already frayed. This was not smurfing anything. He knew snapping at Painter wouldn't help either of them, but being rational was not exactly his strong suit. Painters tail getting enveloped by the sandy mud for the sixth time was the last straw, and Vanity started to see red. He could practically feel the steam coming out of his ears- or whatever the bird equivalent was, anyway.

"Can't you smurf that infernal thing out of the filth?!" It was obvious bait, but Painter's nerves were also too frazzled for him to care. He rose to it just as Vanity had hoped he would.

"My apologizes, _votre Majesté_. Can you, possibly, smurf your _insupportable_ beak shut?!" The two stopped walking and quite literally turned on one another. Neither cared about the storm or the danger it presented to both of them. Painter snarled and smurfed his pointy teeth while Vanity scratched angrily at the ground with his sharp talons.

"Me?! My beak, shut?" Vanity's voice was an equal mix of indignant and outraged.

"Of course, zat iz probably too hard for Mr. _Bavard_, izn't eet?" Painter's tone was definitely condescending.

"That's rich. One of us is a confirmed traitor, and it isn't me." Vanity's jab was sharp, well timed, and hurt. "After all, I'm not the rat." Ouch.

* * *

The fog and bog were still there, much to Farmer's irritation. In fact, the fog seemed thicker. However, he was alive. He was actually breathing and apparently not in the clutches of the whatsit, thank Smurf. Farmer also found himself to be on harder ground that apparently wasn't inclined to smurf him up and suffocate him. How had he gotten there, though? He certainly hadn't dragged himself out. Farmer also doubted that whatever it had been that had yanked him down decided to just throw him back. It occurred to him when he tried to get back up and hack the mud from his lungs that he was not alone. Before him was his apparent savior, Wooly. This was confusing. The last time Farmer had seen Wooly, he had been quickly smurfing away into the fog and out of sight for no explainable reason. Now all of a sudden he was right beside him and more or less lucid. If Farmer was right, Wooly had also somehow pulled him out of the mud.

"Ya alright?" Farmer was going to _kill _him. Was he alright? Really?! What in the world… Did he even realize what he was asking and who to?

"Jest Smurfy." This got a blank stare. Great. Wooly was going to play stupid, now of all times? Jokey had a better sense of timing. Jokey! "Mind tellin' mah why earlier ya ran on mah like a chicken with yer head cut off?" Now he seemed confused and nervous. Smurfing fantastic. "Well?"

"Ah don't follow." Of course he didn't. Fine, that's how he wanted it? Two could play at that game. Farmer finally gave up on trying to stand and instead stared up at the goat.

"We were here, what, jest a bit ago? Ah fell, ya were a git, and then ya bolted and left me to sink and almost die in mud. Am Ah smurfin' any bells here?" Wooly backed up a bit and shook his head, eyes fogging up again. Panic seized Farmer and he instantly regretted the words. Whatever had happened to Wooly, they did NOT need a repeat of the incident. Trouble was, it seemed like they were definitely heading for it. "Ferget it. Ah'm losing mah mind. Yer probably someone else."

"Right." Wooly, and Farmer was still pretty sure it was him, still seemed out of it, but his eyes cleared up a good deal at these words. Whatever was happening, it was smurfing his memory and even his brain. Hmmm… How was Farmer going to get him to remember? Could he even do it? "Anyhow, the name's… Uh…" Great, his eyes were glassing over again. Fantastic.

"Ah'm Farmer, nice ta meet ya." It was probably best not to let Wooly dwell on anything that made him react that way. He tried, foolishly, to get back up. As he expected, Farmer smurfed right back onto the ground, much to Wooly's confusion.

"Say, ya alright?" Stupid question, even if Farmer probably deserved that for trying something so stupid what with having almost just drowned in mud. Nevertheless, he sent up a glare at Wooly and grumbled a bit under his breath.

"Oh, sure. Ah like fallin' ta the ground. Ah do it all the time." What really got him was how Wooly just sort of nodded his head at that like the sarcasm had flown right over it. Something was definitely up. Before Farmer could get to finding just what, he was interrupted when a dog came rushing over and likewise landing face down in the grime.

Clumsy had thought he had been heading for the village, so how in the world he had ended up in a bog of all places was beyond him. Then again, most things were. It was weird, how the whole thing was a veritable wreck, but he supposed all the weather had been smurfing havoc on the forest and that the bog certainly wouldn't be any better off. Bogs normally were a wreck anyway, weren't they? There was something Clumsy knew bogs didn't normally have, though, and that was a goat and a donkey just side by side in the gooey dirt. The donkey was lying down in the slop while the goat stood beside him, and each stared at him and then back at each other and then at him again. His pawed at some of the mud still stuck to his fur, unsure of what to do. It had been embarrassing enough tumbling down into the grit when he had thought there was no one else around to see him. It didn't help that these two seemed equally stunned and unsure.

Then the goat slowly started walking towards him and Clumsy had the weird notion to run away as fast as he could back where he had come from. The goat didn't seem like it wanted to hurt him though, which was nice, but Clumsy didn't know if that still meant things were safe. He didn't know how to read goat body language, after all. Then it stopped right in front of him, big sharp horns looking even more dangerous up close.

"Are ya okay?" He wasn't expecting the question, even if he did really appreciate it. He backed up a little bit more, slightly wary of the gentle voiced yet very menacing goat, and hesitated before answering.

"Ah smurf so." Then the goat's eyes got funny and seemed to spin slightly, making Clumsy back up a good deal more in fear that those horns would end up in him. It staggered a bit to the left and then a mite to the right, and then its hooves scraped against the mud. The donkey more or less limped over at a very rapid pace after he spoke, its eyes looking far more normal than the goat's were.

"Clumsy?" He tumbled right on back face first into the dirt, ears ringing at the word. They knew him! The donkey actually knew his name. Or… Or maybe it was just asking if he was normally such a klutz. Which he was, but that possibility was rather saddening and maddening compared to the first which made everything light up and seem ten times better. So, operating on a hope Clumsy prayed wasn't faulty, he racked off a number of Smurfs who he knew who had a voice like that. That was, a voice like his. The answer smurfed him like the ground to his face.

"Farmer?" Please don't be wrong, please don't be wrong, please don't be wrong…The donkey rushed, rather limped really quickly, over and did the animal equivalent of a hug. A thousand hard rocks were lifted of Clumsy's shoulders in that moment, and a hundred more were lifted off again and again when he realized he wasn't alone. It had been awful terrifying, the small amount of time when he didn't have Puppy or anyone and was more or less wandering the chilly as well as foggy forest on his own. The rain, lighting, and thunder hadn't helped either.

Farmer meanwhile was equally relieved, head pounding and body shaking. He almost laughed, so happy and pleased and grateful. Wooly, however, soon reminded him of the other's presence by moaning and stumbling and making noises worthy of a demonic Azrael. Farmer quickly moved over to try and talk to him again, get him to smurf down a bit. Wooly's eyes, however, when he looked back up were no longer that smurfy blue. No, they were deranged, and more importantly, red.

* * *

"Then why should I look?" Papa Smurf asked, mentally weighing and reweighing his choices and their respective consequences.

"Oh, I didn't say you should." The monster chuckled its raspy chuckle. "Only that you could. After all…" It was smiling, he just knew it. "If you don't want to, that's perfectly fine. Aren't you wondering, though, curious about what's going on right now outside that very door?" Papa Smurf didn't reply. He was honestly between a smurf and a hard place.

"Maybe I am and maybe I'm not." It was best to reply to such piercing questions with riddles.

"Very well. Just in case, I'd hate to keep you guessing. Why, I'm such a good sport I'll tell you right now some of the various things your children have become. I might be lying and I might not be, but you'll never know for certain unless you open that door." He didn't say a word but only turned his head so as not to look at the red eyes of the demon. "You're daughter, the one with the golden hair? She is now a black deer, most likely some hunter's dinner." He shut his eyes tight and tried not to tremble. "You already know what some of them were going to become, correct?" This time he answered.

"Y-yes." Smurf his trembling voice.

"Well then, I just want you to know you were probably right. The innocent sickly one? A rabbit." Cue more gritting. "The flighty doctor? A chameleon. The short sighted loudmouth? A bat. The talkative reporter? A parrot." His teeth were going to smurf into two any minute now. "The strong musclebound worker? A horse. The greedy cook? A bear. The naive creative inventor?" Now Papa Smurf trembled. "A human." Oh yes, he definitely shook.

"No." None of them could have transformed. They were simply lost or hurt or… Who was he smurfing?

"That _bothers_ you, doesn't it? That you couldn't save them, were forced to sit aside and twiddle your thumbs while they were transformed against their will, into forms they deserve." Papa Smurf wanted to turn around and strangle the creature, even if the action certainly wasn't peaceful. "The fact that one of them deserved to be turned into a human, a species that represents all the vices and evil in the world to you is just infuriating, I bet. Don't lie; I managed to overhear a thing or two about how you're not supposed to act like humans and all that. Funny how your child, one of your own, turned out to be just like one of them." Now Papa Smurf did turn around and lunge for the creature the way it did so many times at its victims. It simply dodged it and laughed, frustratingly amused. "Really? Did you honestly think you could harm me?"

"It was worth a smurf."It laughed even louder.

"I haven't even begun to describe the other ones, those that were infected while you were in here trying to delude yourself that there was possibly a cure or some such nonsense. For example, the fussy gossip? A peacock. The spunky little redhead? A fox." It was just taunting him. None of this could be true; it had to have been lying. He was a simple toy for it to smurf with, but he wasn't going to play that twisted game. "The nature child? A raccoon. The temperamental crafty painter? A rat." It was getting very hard not to want to play, however, to make it admit that none of its lies were true. "The stupid klutz? A dog. Need I go on? I have almost a hundred different sources to choose. The sea fairing adventurer? A merman. The-" It was cut off by Papa Smurf's angry yell.

"Stop!" It complied, surprisingly. "Why the mind games? Isn't the pain you've already smurfed enough?" The cursed monstrosity just laughed and laughed, now seeming genuinely amused instead of condescending.

"You stole my child away from me and yet you have the gall to ask that?" It laughed long and hard, voice hysterical. "Oh no, it will _never_ be enough. However, who said I was using mind games? I'm just telling you the truth, which you can validate with just one look out the door. The choice is really yours whether this is a mind game or not."


	12. Chapter 12

"That in itself is a mind game. Do I trust you enough to believe that you're not trying to trick me, or that it is one and that you will either smurf me now here or when I try to look out the door." The monster already knew all this, so Papa Smurf was explaining more for himself than it.

"Do you really distrust me so?" The thing faked an injured tone, which it proved to be all for show with its next laugh. "You are completely right to, of course. Even you are not so stupid as to let your guard down around a parent who's lost their only child." It laughed for a few more moments, sounding more insane than Jokey did when he got a crazy idea for a prank. It was, in short, _very_ unnerving.

"Interesting. You seem to be as… tactless as you warn against being." Its eyes, smurf them, narrowed again and it snarled. "You say it's foolish to smurf one's guard down around parents whose children have been taken from them, yet here you are taunting me." It laughed once more. This was getting very frustrating. Was that all it could do besides attack and taunt?

"What can you do to me? I could kill or torture you, but to me? Shout maybe? Try to lunge again and fail? Nothing. Which reminds me, speaking of nothings…" It got that malicious glint in its eyes and Papa Smurf wanted to scream. Not again. Not more. "Did I yet tell you what happened to that motherly creature, your mother-figure?" It had to be kidding. "Nanny goat. Only fitting, I believe. She was taking care of an infant, and I'd hate to leave anyone out of my little warpath." They wouldn't have had. They couldn't have had. Were they really so sick, so twisted? No. He refused to believe it. No living creature, none that had the tiniest sliver of compassion or care- That was the issue though. This thing had no compassion in its black husk of a heart. "Oh, do wipe the horror off your face. I haven't quite gotten around to that one yet. An infant could have done nothing against your heinous actions. The young adults certainly could have, even the elderly or the children, but an infant? The innocent are not condemned. The guilty, however, are justly punished."

"We aren't guilty! None of them were!" He was relieved and furious and all around exhausted, it'd been a long week for Papa Smurf. "You based your revenge on a fleeting image which you could have easily smurfed wrong. You just admitted that they were, are, you're only child, so you're probably a first time parent. You panicked and wanted to react with violence as soon as you could because you're not used to this and you just immediately smurfed to conclusions. False conclusions that have made my family suffer." It lunged for him and barely missed, claws or talons or whatever just avoiding his arm.

"How _dare_ you?! You know _nothing_. _Nothing_!" It lunged again and Papa Smurf found that taking another option would probably be best.

"_Ignis_!" The flame spell worked, thank smurf, and the thing was temporarily blinded by the light. Its shadows melted away in the confusion, and Papa Smurf quickly lit a candle with a much milder version of the same spell. The sight of the creature without its protection was, to put it lightly, horrifying. It had only one head and one pair of eyes, but had at least twenty tails and thirty legs. Some of the legs weren't even legs, just jelly-like structures that somehow defied gravity. It was covered in feathers and scales and fur and slime all at the same time, some places more of one thing than another. Its body was multicolored as if Painter had just splashed it a thousand times over with multiple paint buckets and decided to smurf some on for good measure. Its face had no obvious eyebrows or nose, yet its mouth was large and filled with rows upon rows of pointy teeth. If he lived, this image would haunt him till the end.

It, the terror, the nightmare straight out of smurf, recovered far too quickly. It noticed too late that its cover had been shattered and that its ghastly image was being seen and feared in full view.

"Not what you expected?" Understatements were apparently a fine tuned skill of its. "Would you like to know there is worse?"

"That is not possible." He hadn't meant for it to come out so crudely, but he wasn't going to apologize for the honest truth to this demon that had been willing to stack and kill innocents.

"Oh?" It had a very one track mind, he found, as it went on to terrify and taunt him even more. "Pity you're still so naïve. Your children have tried to kill each other, just as I planned they would. I even got to witness some rather bloody encounters." It was right back to smurfing him want to groan and scream and fall asleep dead on his feet. This was too much to take in one day. Smurf, it was too much to take in one lifetime.

"You-" It already knew what he was going to say, it had become so repeated a defense.

"I'm not lying. Your son-turned-bear attacked both the dog that was once the klutz and another dog that already lived in this pit. A little pixie of some kind was also with them, and I do not doubt for a second that they were left either dead or severely injured by the end. Before that the two had teamed up with the other dog to fight off the raccoon that was once the nature lover. They gave it a pretty good beating, though it did considerable damage in turn. I'm partly impressed they are adapting so quickly and well and partly horrified that _that_ is your best example of 'gentle'. Your 'precious' and 'innocent' children did that when given the means." Papa Smurf wanted to close his eyes, cover his ears, and never open or unclamp either for as long as he lived. Lies, lies, mind games, and more mind games. That's all they could possibly be, he still hadn't seen outside, none of it was real. "Now, are you going to continue this or are you going to just take a look out the door to see what's the truth?" Papa Smurf sighed. At this rate he was going to die at this thing's hands anyway, he might as well smurf if the horrible tales were true or not.

"One thing, though." Its hideous face scrunched up as it growled, but it did finally give a short nod. "What are you?"

"I am a shape shifter, of sorts. There's no real word for us, I suppose. We change our skin when we want and change the skins of others when we find it desirable or humorous." Glad to have gotten that out of the way, he wearily smurfed over to the door and, after only half of a moment's hesitation, opened it.

* * *

_I'm going to kill you._

**News flash.**

The den wasn't supposed to smurf on top of us like that, was it?

**No.**

_No._

We really need help, don't we?

_Yes._

**…Yes.**

Perhaps if we found others like us they would help?

_That's possible._

**I suppose it is, if we really want to give up so soon.**

_Better to give up now than to die because we listened to you._

**So we made a mistake.**

_You. You made a mistake that almost killed us. I didn't want to do this, remember._

Umm…

**One mistake and you give up.**

_One mistake that could have smurfed us!_

Hey…

**Could have, but didn't. Certain risks are necessary.**

_If we had headed to the village, we wouldn't have had to risk it in the first place._

Guys, the ground-

**Please! No risks means no fun, and we already know the village won't take us. Why would they?**

_Because we're family! They care about us, we care about them!_

It's not supposed to slip like this-

**Oh, really? Why haven't they come, then? Because they don't care! They never liked our jokes and pranks anyway; this is just a chance to smurf rid of us!**

_… Stupid! They care, they're just- just being held up by Gargamel or something._

Really not a good-

**Sure they are, and next Grouchy will smurf a smile. Please.**

_Why w-would you even think that? Our pranks are g-good._

**Why does no one else ever seem to like them?**

HELLO!?

_What?!_

**What?!**

The ground! It's giving way!

_No it's not._

**Ulp.**

_What?_

**Yes, it is.**

* * *

_You are an idiot. No, I'm the idiot for smurfing to reason with you._

The beaver did smash his head against the rocks this time. Just once, and the result was an even larger migraine. Unfortunately, the voice was still there and going strong. It kept ranting and ranting and telling him off for trying to stay alive and not wanting to become a meal at the Marina's hands. Well, it didn't exactly _say_ the last part, but it sure sounded like that was what had annoyed it.

_Look, I'm you and you're me._

Ridiculous nonsense was still ridiculous.

_Can't you remember anything? The village, our job maybe, or even the red eyed creature?_

Ridiculous nonsense could also apparently be used very effectively as a weapon. His head pounded and his view blurred. Everything ached and stung and screamed to stop whatever it was he was doing. He didn't know, though. This had to have been the work of the voice, the evil demon that brought back foggy memories of pain and fear that he wished to push as far away as possible. How dare it do this?

_Fine. Smurf of the good memories._

Those existed? It was hard to tell, what with constant pain filled memory after pain filled memory slamming into him. There had to be something good though, so desperately the beaver tried to find one. Images of controlled and small fires that were nice and warm drifted to mind. Being in a nice area surrounded by giant mushroom-like things and laughing blue others also came, and the writhing eventually slowed and stopped.

_Those are the other Smurfs. Don't you remember them? They're our family._

It seemed so nice that if there hadn't been those red eyes luring in the back of his mind, he may have just agreed with the insanity. It would be worth it, to see more of such happy memories. Having a family, one he could remember and knew was alive, would be fantastic. It was all too good to be true, unfortunately, as the resurfacing nightmares flashed through his mind once again reminded him. He was a beaver, not a bleu thing with a happy life that enjoyed small warm fires and silly stories. His job was to be a beaver and live his life, even if he really couldn't remember any of it.

_There's a reason you can't, the same reason as why you can smurf me and can remember my life._

He refused to give in, to believe it. Yes, he was scared. Terrified even, because if he wasn't a beaver, what was he?

_A Smurf. I can prove it._

He wanted to ignore it, to try and work his migraine off and pretend he hadn't remembered anything. He already knew it wouldn't work.

_We need to find the village, the area you saw. If they can't help us or if it doesn't seem even the slightest bit familiar, I'll smurf up and won't bother you again._

The trip was immediately worth it even if it could get him killed or fatally injured. So he nodded. Done. Deal. Sounded fantastic to him.

_Okay, first thing we need to head for is away from this river. Then we…_

* * *

A certain chameleon skittered up and down the tree, clinging onto it for dear life with every step. No matter where it went, no spot seemed to be anywhere near sheltering from the storm, and the wind made the entire thing sway. It was a miracle it was still in one piece. The limbs of it were old and gnarled, smurfing like they could break at any second. The fog was thick as mud, and the rain was fast and cold. Dabbler was honestly freezing his scaly smurf off in the much colder than desired temperature. There were no sources of heat or warmth, save the lighting, but Dabbler didn't feel like getting electrocuted as a way to warm up. He was weirdly picky that way, he dryly supposed. To take his mind off of how freezing it was and how slow he was getting, Dabbler tried to pay attention to the world around him. It was safe to say that if his mutations had finished, then the others' had as well.

So, were the sounds of neighing horses and hissing cats actually the sounds of family? He didn't know. He smurfed it was most likely them, but assuming could lead to more than enough trouble. And… He was being flighty. Smurf it. Why? Hadn't he gone through this enough times in the past? There was a reason he had been named "Dabbler", but the resurfacing of such indecisiveness was enough to smurf him mad. It had kept him from his calling, that of being a doctor, for 150 years. Was it even his calling, though? There were so many other things that sounded so interesting and- ARGH! Soon he wouldn't even be able to decide whether to go back to the village or to stay put and die. Of course, he could try to find the others, but then again- This was _very_ frustrating. Dabbler was going to smurf it out of this tree before he changed his mind. Hopefully he would find the others, but who knew? To be truthful, Dabbler found that almost anything would be better than always second guessing himself. Find the others, get to the village, get cured and stop being so smurfing flighty. It was a plan.

Was it a good plan, though? Could it work, or would he botch it somehow and end up ruining everything? Moving was getting harder anyway, he sluggishly thought, the wind and rain not helping in the slightest. He wanted to sleep, to shut out the world, to ignore everything. Yet he also wanted to get back to normal and forget any of this ever happened. Life hated them, for whatever reason. It really just seemed to despise the Smurfs, something they were reminded of day after day. Were the Smurfs enjoying themselves and good weather? Have Gargamel make it flood. Was it peaceful? Give Hogatha or Balthazar a call and tell them what they could do for their latest scheme. No one dying or in serious pain? Smurf a red eyed creature into the mix and laugh while you watch. Any and all deities _loved_ to laugh at them.

Deities. Hold up… Mother Nature would surely know what to do or at least how to counter the effects. No one messed with nature and got away with it, anyhow, and changing the species of the forest's creatures was definitely smurfing with nature. How was Dabbler going to get to her though, without freezing in place or being too indecisive on whether or not he should go and how? He could hardly think of anything now without being unsure about it. Unsure probably wasn't even the word to use, but- Right. Go to Mother Nature or die trying. This was not going to smurf well for anyone, he could just feel it.

* * *

It was cold and wet, not that Grouchy cared beyond noting to himself how much he hated being cold and wet. The air got under his fur and made him growl, but it wasn't as if he couldn't handle it. Not to say that he thought he was invincible or anything. That sort of stupidity was the sort of thing Jokey or Tuffy was fueled on. Grouchy just curled up tighter in his make-shift den. His mind kept smurfing up with things he'd rather not think about, then or ever. Like Baby, for example, who could have been in serious danger or worse. The red eyed demon had already proven earlier with the Smurflings that it didn't let age stop it, or so the rumor mill spread. Of course, the village's rumor mill also spread things such as Jokey having a serious side or Brainy actually being able to smurf up once in a while. So anything it started was to be taken with a grain of salt. However, the thought of Baby in pain kept flashing through his mind and rattled him to his core, whether Grouchy cared to admit it or not.

That settled it; he was going back to the village. If he stayed far enough away he would be able to see how Baby was and hopefully be able to do it without being seen. Yeah, he was out of his smurfing mind, but so what. Grouchy belonged to an insane family that did dumb things every day. Compared to certain incidents, this was a walk to the river. He reluctantly pulled himself out of his warm not-quite-a-den and peered out into the fog. There was nothing that he could see out there, though that didn't mean that danger wasn't right around the corner. Unfortunately, it was. Just when it seemed safe, a large spotted canine- or feline, it was hard to tell- creature came and smurfed onto his tail. Twice. It seemed like it was talking to itself with mad laughter mixed into the dialogue. So he'd been stepped on twice by a crazy creature. Smurftastic.

"We _must _**return**." Its voice was weird to, sounding distorted and not just from the wind. "But _where_** is**the _village_?" Oh no. The village? There was a distorted animal that was trying to find a village. Why did Grouchy suddenly have the sneaking suspicion that this was one of his siblings?

"I hate the village." Now, if that comment didn't get the thing's attention, then he could rest assured he wasn't related to it. Like he would ever be that lucky. It span around with its ears perked up and it frantically tried to find the source of the voice before finally noticing him and getting its paws off.

"Gr**ou**_ch**y**_?" Of _course_ it knew him. Why had he even dared think otherwise might have been possible. "**Is **_it _you?"

"I hate how it's me." That got the hoping about and cackling madly. Enough soon got to be enough, and Grouchy lashed out at them. He missed, of course, but the point was made clear. The thing stopped whatever it was doing and sat down next to him.

"**Do** _you_ know **the** _way_ to **the** _village_?" They didn't give him a chance to answer. "We **were** _caught_ in **a** _mud_ slide **and** _need_ to **go** _smurf_ help." We? What on earth were they smurfing on about now? "**It** _hurts_. We, **_I_**-" It faltered before it could finish, eyes wild. "**_It's me Grouchy_**,**_ help_**. **_Please_**."

"I hate me." Translation: Be more smurfing specific. He recognized the voice, mangled as it was, and there weren't many Smurfs who rasped like that.

"**_I'm Jokey_**.**_ Help_**." Just who he thought. Perfect. Great. Could the day get any _better_? Without a word Grouchy yanked on his brother's front left paw and tried to guide him towards the village. Jokey followed with little complaint, but he did keep muttering and tensing. It was weird, but no different than any other of the wacky stuff they had seen and experienced. What they did see next though, when they finally got to their destination, beat everything else.

The village was in ruins, all save for Papa Smurf's house. It stood alone in the fog, almost impossible to see amongst the wreckage and debris. Their home, the only one they had known for their entire 150 years of living, had been smashed and demolished into pieces of rubble. To make things worse, Baby's screams could be heard amidst the eerie silence. Grouchy forgot everything and anything else as he smurfed off after the haunting noise.

* * *

Magic. Andy was right back to the questions and theories that had been bothering him before. He didn't believe too much in magic, acknowledged that it existed maybe, but he hadn't put too much faith into it before. Well, no, he couldn't say that when he didn't remember a thing from before. Maybe he did really believe in it, and was just being thickheaded at the moment. Even if he did though, him? A magical creature? It was rather farfetched. His head throbbed as he mulled over it, and Andy grimaced at the pain. He wasn't going to just stop, however, because he really wanted to remember something from his past. Anything. All he had was Henry and vague notions that he was the blacksmith of some village. Not that it was just any village, Andy knew, but somewhere that was wonderful and was home. Every once in a while, he would hear voices. They were garbled, yes, but with them came equally garbled names and blurry faces.

"_-Andy, are you - alright_?" A father with a white bushy beard, who had a name that started with a P.

"_-Andy, thanks for - my mirror_." A friend, someone who was rather narcissistic but had a good heart deep,_ deep_ down.

"_I - you don't do this again, -Andy, your clothes can't take it_." A friend and tailor, whose name was surprisingly similar to their occupation.

He should have been able to remember them more clearly if they really were part of his past, but he got nothing beyond what shady things he received.

"_Are you sure you're alright pal_?" A brother, and the insane part of Andy was almost willing to say it was Henry.

"-Andy, could you tell us that story again?" A seemingly innocent child with a wild temper and streak.

"_Thank you for saving my life_." A beautiful woman with a heart of gold who Andy immediately knew he would do anything and everything for.

They just kept coming and coming, each making his head pound more than the last.

"_Hey, -Andy, would you like a surprise_?" A jokester who was immediately equated with explosions and laughter.

"_Sorry –Andy_!" A klutz who didn't mean any of the damage he caused and was almost impossible to be mad at.

"Andy, are you sure you're okay?" It took a second for him to realize that it wasn't another faded memory but a concerned Johan. Andy stopped muttering and tried to straighten up a bit. His head ached and he just wanted to scream, but that was no real excuse. If it weren't for Johan and Peewit, he would probably still be wandering around in this storm with no clue of how to get to the nearest village. He probably wouldn't have been found by Henry either, now that he thought about it.

"I'm fine. Thank you for asking. I was just… Thinking about your theory." The "which I still think is completely ridiculous" was left out. Besides, Andy was actually starting to wonder if it may or may not have been true. The weather and his headache were starting to get to him.

"And?" Johan was smiling, his demeanor cheerer than before, if only slightly.

"And I think you might be onto something. Maybe." Andy tacked on the last part when the skeptical part of his mind started coming up with a thousand reasons for why it didn't add up. Then it brought up twenty for why and how it did.

"Well, if I am right, then that brings us to the next issue." Andy winced at the million things that it could possibly be. His head throbbed again and he bit back a scream. Yelling like a madman would not help his case in the slightest, especially not now that they were delving into insane theory territory. "What species you where, how you became human, and, of course, how to get you back to your normal form, whatever it may be." That _was_ a lot to think about. Andy didn't even know where or how to start. His current knowledge on magical creatures was rather lacking, even if he felt like he should've known more.

"What do we start with then?" It sounded like it could be fun. Inane, yes, but ridiculously fun.

"How about how you became human? If we figure that part out, we could work from there." It was Peewit who spoke this time, having also waited until they walked side by side. The deer, which was shockingly still beside him, seemed to know it was more or less trapped, however accidentally. It shrank a bit and pressed further against him and Henry. Andy gave it a few encouraging pats, feeling equally trapped and surrounded. He tried to think of his earliest memories, actual ones that weren't just shadowy figments. Red eyes stood out in his mind, as well as shock, fear, and pain. He muscles seemed to ache at the memories alone, and that wasn't even considering how much his head hurt. It was something, though.

"Something, I can't remember exactly what, with red eyes attacked me. I think." He rubbed the back of his neck a bit, not too sure how to deal with the combined attentions of two people he had only just met now that he was more lucid and aware of his surroundings.

"A red eyed creature, you say? Hmm, maybe when it bit or scratched you it magically affected you, like a werewolf or vampire would." Peewit flinched for whatever reason at Johan's words, much to Andy's confusion. Maybe he'd had a bad run in with a vampire or a werewolf before. They both nodded along anyway, neither finding anything unreasonable with the words. No more unreasonable than was to come about from talking about magical creatures, that was. "Unfortunately, I haven't heard anything about any creature like that, around here or anywhere else. Have you, Peewit?" Said boy shook his head and gave a sheepish shrug to Andy. So much for that leading them anywhere.

"Any idea what you may have been before?" Peewit asked Andy, and he spent a good minute thinking on it. Nothing really came except the undisputed harsh fact that he was human when he hadn't always been. Nothing more, nothing less. The more he concentrated on it, the more the few memories and half-memories he did have faded away. Thankfully, when he stopped they slowly came back.

"No, sorry. What magical creatures supposedly live around here?" Johan and Peewit looked at him and then at each other and then back at him. Andy didn't like the grin on Peewit's face or the grimace on Johan's.

* * *

"Take eet back, you filthy _salaud_! Take eet back, now!" Painter was furious he tried to bite at Vanity's wings while Vanity tried to stomp peck him.

"I don't think I will, rat." Vanity succeeded in stabbing Painter's tail, something he was rather proud of. The pride was soon replaced by fury when Painter in turn smurfed into his leg. As a rat, he had some rather sharp teeth, and they_ hurt_. "Only fair, some friend you are."

"I'm sorry, I have said zat multiple times now. When iz eet going to be enough?" He was smurfed on the head but managed to duck getting stomped on.

"When?! You smurfed me, a friend, alone and to the paranoid masses just because some idiots decided I might have been dangerous! It'll never be enough!" Vanity wanted to scream and rant and rage again.

"What eef you were as dangerous as they said? Would you have wanted to be responsible for zis thing smurfing around and infecting and possibly _tuerie _everyone?" _Not that it didn't anyway, but still. _Vanity hesitated and seemed to lose his steam as quickly as he had amassed it. The rain and lightning went on, but the atmosphere didn't seem as tense as it had once been. Now it was just depressing and highlighted how big of a mess they were in.

"You were scared. I suppose no one can smurf you for that." His voice was a lot quieter and Vanity's eyes were directed elsewhere. He dropped the fighting stance, which was more or less what it was, and turned around. It was easier to deal with him when he was mad, Painter realized. Because the he could shout right back at him and be just as angry without having to own up to anything or talk things out. Painter was temperamental, no secret there, and yelling at someone or something was far easier than talking to them when he didn't want to or when he got frustrated. Many, many paintings had been smurfed to splinters as a result of that. You couldn't do that with people though. You couldn't just make them shut up and go away, and it was way too easy to just smurf their feelings into shards. Vanity, being rather emotional, was especially difficult when something like this happened. "To be truthful, I myself was somewhat worried something like that may have happened. Of course, I also doubted Papa Smurf would let me remain unquarantined if I really was so dangerous."

Papa Smurf, however, as they both knew, had been rather withdrawn as of late and could have overlooked it in his isolation of sorts. It was unlikely, but not impossible. Nothing was impossible, not anymore. Insane crazy things happened daily, weird incidents became regular occurrences, and now innocent Smurfs were being ruthlessly hunted down and turned into animals. Yes, it was scary. However, it was no more frightening than some of the other things they had smurfed and somehow _lived_ through. Painter grumbled to himself and grew more and more embarrassed with himself. He had left a friend behind because he was scared. He had acted like a rat, as much as it hurt to think, and now he had to smurf up for it.

"Eet iz not your fault I abandoned you. I was a _lâche_ and deserve the words." Painter winced, very displeased with himself and his own cowardice. "Oui, I was scared. However, that does not smurf my actions. You are my friend and brother, yet I went smurfing like a _humain_ and an _idiot_." The two sat in the freezing cold fog and blustery wind, rain pelting them from any and every direction. It felt good, though, not to have your friend angry with you, and as such both tried very hard to ignore the weather. Death by rain storm sounded worse and more likely as time went on, and eventually the two just smurfed up and started searching for shelter again. There was a dark damp cave on the other side of the forest, and it took them a good long time to find it. Still, some shelter was better than none, even if said shelter was wet, drafty, and, pardon the pun, stone cold.

* * *

His eyes were becoming redder and redder, more and more unfocused. Wooly mumbled, apparently talking to himself. He smurfed a step towards them, a step that seemed forced, and mumbled louder.

"G-g-ge-" He muttered louder, and Clumsy managed to hear the not quite words this time. "G-ge-get-" Wooly took another wobbly step.

"Get what?" Clumsy asked, copying Farmer's moments and backing up. Wooly took a raspy breath and shook more. He charged at them, bellowing a very simple sentence that needed no clarification.

"Smurf away!" That was all the incentive they needed. Clumsy ran like the dickens, only daring to stop when the ground started to get harder. Looking around, he smurfed no sight of Wooly, which he supposed was good. The panicked braying he heard behind him coupled with the fact that Farmer wasn't in sight was definitely _not_ good. Clumsy tripped over his paws as he tried to smurf to the sound, each bray becoming more frantic than the last. When he did finally untangle himself and get to the source, Wooly had already beaten him there. Farmer was kicking and biting at him as Wooly did the same, though Wooly also tried to head-butt him with his horns. Farmer managed to smurf him on the ear hard and Wooly got back at him by getting one of his eyes with a horn. Clumsy wanted to intervene, to stop the insanity, but there wasn't much he could do. He could try to bite Wooly, but that would hurt his brother and be rather ineffective. If pain could've snapped him out of it, Farmer's kicks and bites already would have. Another head-butt from Wooly to one of his legs and Farmer was down.

Then Wooly tried to trample him to death, which was where Clumsy figured it would be best to smurf in, even if he couldn't do anything. They didn't need Farmer dead. Clumsy didn't want anyone to die, especially not at the hands of _family_. When had life decided they were in need of more chaos? What fool had smurfed that on? With a growing feeling of dread, Clumsy figured it had probably somehow been him. A loud bark, his own, and a bite to the ear took Wooly's attention away from Farmer and got Clumsy to briefly ignore the worry. He could always worry later, and right now he would have to keep Wooly from killing either him or Farmer, who seemed to be having trouble breathing. For his troubles, Clumsy smurfed a hoof to the nose and a horn to the throat. He'd had worse before, if only because he tripped over a ton of stuff and bumped into multiple things daily. Wooly had definitely jabbed somewhere vulnerable with his horn, though, or it wouldn't be so hard to breathe.

Farmer, meanwhile, was having an equally hard time. His eye stung and leg burned, and breathing was no easy task. Clumsy was barking and yelping, so whatever he had done to Wooly had worked. He was going to take advantage of that, the question as only how to. Farmer was not going to just lie down while Wooly acted like a madsmurf, but getting up seemed equally unlikely thanks to, and he wasn't going to deny it, his leg. His head wasn't doing too well either, red spots popping up out of the corner of his good eye. Still, he dragged himself up and tried to smurf Wooly from behind. A good kick or two to the head sent Wooly down. Unfortunately, Clumsy was right beside him, also apparently having breathing issues. His throat was bleeding, as was his nose, and he seemed to be going into delirious stages similar to the ones Wooly had gone through. His eyes were unfocused and he was growling and whimpering at the fog and empty air.

"Clumsy, snap outta it. Now." Farmer punctuated the demand with a light hit to the head with his hoof. That seemed to do the trick, luckily enough. Clumsy still looked dazed, but his eyes weren't rolling about or twitching now. "Come on, smurf up. We have ta get out of here, away from the entire area, before Wooly loses it again."

"Ah won't." Speak of the devil. Farmer mentally cursed as he turned on Wooly, several insults and unkind phrases already being formed. He was already back up on his hooves, if not a bit shaky. "Sorry about that. Don't know what smurfed over me." The use of the term "smurfed" and the fact that his eyes were no longer red caused both Farmer and Clumsy to almost fall over. Thank smurf he'd snapped out of whatever trance he'd been in. How was a question each was too tired to ask or care about. Clumsy lied down and rested his head, and Farmer would have bet just about anything that he was sleeping. Farmer straggled over to him, collapsing right next to him when his leg gave out. He too fell asleep in a matter of seconds.

The blanks in Wooly's memory, ones that were now so painfully obvious, started to fill in now that he was back to not trying to kill anyone. He did not like smurfing what he had tried to do to both of his brothers, or the fact that they both seemed to be smurfing from his attacks. His ear ached and hurt with every little motion, but Wooly would be lying if he said he didn't think he deserved it. Wooly sat down next to the two snoozing animals and looked around. They were on the sturdier part of the bog, which also meant that any other kind of creature could walk right up to them with little issue. They'd been attacked more than enough recently; they didn't need a red eyed demon or even just a squirrel smurfing after them. The fog was chilling and the air was harsh and nippy, but with every passing minute Wooly's eyelids grew heavier and heavier. Less than an hour after he'd set out to be the lookout, he was dead asleep beside his brothers, dreaming of much warmer and far more cheery times.

* * *

Having a breakdown would not be good, but Papa Smurf personally believed it could be excused in this case. The red eyed monster, the shape shifter, had been right. The village was in shambles, and shadowy figures moved in the rubble and fog. It was, perhaps, only his falling to his knees that saved him. The shape shifter had lunged for him that instant, and if he hadn't smurfed it would have easily tackled him. He quickly shot dome fire at it and was not ashamed of how proud he was to have hit it right in its leering face.

"Well? Was I lying?" It _still_ taunted him. Smurf, how he hated it. "Your precious little home, ruined. Your precious family, torn apart. Your duty as a father? Failed." The worst part was that it was all true. It was utterly destroyed, they were gone, and he had failed them. A more horrifying fact also came to him in that moment. Papa Smurf could hear the cries of baby, each as painful as poison to hear. The shadowy being moved towards the cries, and Papa Smurf was torn between rushing to baby and fending the creatures off. The shape shifter used his distraction and dove at him, biting him twice in the arm as it did. It then laughed its insane and maniacal laugh while he quickly mutated. In his new form he became very aware of the animal mind that was trying to overtake him for control of his new body and fought fiercely against it. He was furious, truth be told. How _dare_it. How _dare_ that creature that didn't even belong try to take the one thing he had left, his control over himself and his own actions? He had smurfed more than someone should ever have been forced to lose.

"Do you wish to die?" Papa Smurf managed to growl out, but certainly not in the same language he had been smurfing before. He doubted many would have been able to understand that what he was saying was far beyond simple snarls and barks. The shape shifter, naturally, understood him anyway. It was obvious it knew by the way it threw its head back and laughed after he finished the sentence. Well, maybe it was laughing just because it was so pleased with itself, Papa Smurf wasn't really sure anymore. The only assured thing, truly, was that it had no sanity. Baby cried again, louder this time and shriller, and he abandoned the cackling menace in favor of following the cries. The shadowy figures in the background moved faster as well, one smaller than he and the other about his size. Using as much of his strength as he could, Papa Smurf flung himself into the fray, as it were, and landed in front of Baby. He'd smurfed there just before the two figures could reach his child. They turned out to be animals, each surprised by his sudden emergence from the fog. One was a badger and the other a spotted canine-like creature which was not easily recognizable. The badger didn't waste any time attacking, hissing and biting him wherever it could. The spotted canine-ish creature stood there for a moment smurfing confused before it also joined in.

* * *

Snappy grumbled as he looked back and forth between Sassette and Slouchy. At least, he was fairly sure it was Slouchy. Not many living beings could make a snarky comment just by smurfing at you. Sassette, for whatever reason, was trying to attack Slouchy. Namely, she was going for his tail, and it looked like that hurt. Slouchy yowled and clawed her back, something she didn't take well to. She bit his nose, which was _definitely_ something he didn't like. They were both furious and the tension was as thick as the fog. Snappy didn't like it one bit. If Sassette ever fought with someone, it was almost always him. Not that he liked that by any means, but it was weird and frightening to see her attack Slouchy like that and vice-versa. Sassette's eyes were also red, and that raised more than a few alarms. Slouchy seemed to have also realized this, but what could either of them do about it? It explained why she was smurfing so weird, yet they still had no idea how to reverse it or help her smurf out of it. Then her eyes were clear and blue again and Sassette looked confused. Snappy wanted to punch something. Everything was wrong and getting worse.

Slouchy apparently didn't realize until it was too late that Sassette was back to normal, and gave her a face full of claws. To say she took it badly was a tremendous understatement that even Snappy wouldn't smurf. Well, no, not badly. It just made Snappy feel horrible even if he hadn't done anything and he didn't even want to _think_ about how it had probably made Slouchy feel. Sassette whimpered and gave them both _the look_. _The look_ was like puppy dog eyes except it added the quivering lip and made the Smurf it was directed at feel horrible and want to fix whatever they had just broken or done. From what they'd been told, all girls were able to pull of _the look_, and Smurfette was also very good at it.

Sassette was confused. She was bleeding, she knew, and her face stung. What hurt the most was the fact that _Slouchy_ had smurfed it. He was furious again, why? What had happened twice in a row now to make him so upset? That would smurf him attack her like that? Snappy was by her side again, but now he seemed furious. What had happened to make two of her best friends so angry? She looked to them for answers, but both averted their eyes and then also seemed very guilty.

"What happened, Slouchy?" He did look at her now, but she wished he hadn't. Slouchy seemed very tired and worn, very adult. It felt weird to see that look on a Smurf she knew could be very relaxed and reasonable. Now he seemed like someone she could trust to help and scold her, like any of the grownups, but not like someone she could laugh and play with as he had been before.

"Sassette, you're smurfing out of control." Was that even his voice? It sounded just like he looked and just as alien a she had feared it would be.

"What do you mean, smurfing out of control? I'm fine." Was she though? Her recent memory was very fuzzy, but maybe that was just because she was so tired and her face hurt so much. Now that Sassette thought about it, and much to her disgust, she could taste blood. Slouchy was bleeding and they had apparently been fighting. She quickly added two and two and felt like she was either about to throw up or faint. She couldn't have had. There was no possible way… But Sassette had, hadn't she? That was why they were so upset and guilty. Whatever that red eyed monster had done to her, it was somehow smurfing her to attack her best friends. "Horrifying hens, Slouchy, I'm sorry."

He appreciated that, really Slouchy did. It did him good, he would have to admit, to hear Sassette say one of her many, many alliterated sayings. The fact that she was realizing what had happened was also somewhat uplifting, if only because it meant he wouldn't have to explain. Still, he had hurt her, his _sister_, smurfed blood, and the worst part? It was because there had been no other option. Had anything else seemed possible or even reasonable, Slouchy would have jumped to do them instead. Nothing had, unfortunately, and they had fought like wild animals. This was _so_ wrong. What else could he have done? There had to be something, anything. Slouchy must have screwed up somehow, to have missed it, but it had to be there somewhere. Perhaps Nat would have called him a hickory nut for being so deep in denial that what had happened was all he could do, but Slouchy couldn't bring himself to care.

Okay, could he have dodged out of the way? Yes, but then he would've smurfed or stepped on Snappy. Could he have jumped? Sassette would have been able to strike his underside or ended up clawed anyway. What if he had just done nothing? Then Sassette may have never been jolted out of her brief insanity. There really was nothing he could have done differently, or at least nothing he could have done while keeping the end result relatively peaceful and happy. Worrying about what may have been, as much as he did, would not get them back to the village or to Nat or even just to shelter. Snappy looked freezing and Sassette didn't seem much better off. Slouchy was even willing to bet that he was probably in the same boat, shivering and teeth chattering at fifty miles per hour. He started to walk towards the village, nodding once to let Sassette know he wasn't really mad at her, and soon the other two fell into line.

* * *

A cat somehow found him. If his nose was right, and Nat was pretty sure it was, there was also a fox. And something else… They were all someones he would been _very_ hard pressed to forget. Was he becoming delusional? If that was really who Nat thought it was, then they were also likely… He had to have been wrong. There was no way it was actually them. They were safe, somewhere. They had to be. Still, it was maddening, illusion or not. Nat crept out of the log carefully, fully prepared to dart back in or away if these creatures were hostile. They had stopped too, as if they recognized that there was someone they knew there. Of course, that was only possible if they really smurfed out to be who he dreaded and hoped they were.

"Nat." He knew that voice. Creeping forward much faster, still with his guard up, Nat wondered if that was really Slouchy or some figment of his imagination. Sure enough, when he poked his head out there was a red furred fox kit, brown furred kitten, and a Smurfling in front of him. They stared at him. Nat stared at them. This continued on for a whole of twenty seconds before Sassette, or at least the fox kit he was sure was Sassette, rushed over and gave him the animal equivalent of a hug while babbling on and on about what he had missed and what was going on. In turn, Nat babbled excitedly about how glad he was to smurf them, which was very true. He was practically jumping up and down with joy because they actually existed, she had touched him and he had felt it and everything. The four eventually ended up in a laughing pile. Nat was so relieved and he was sure the other three were just as happy as he was. They were together again after being separated and having been forced to lose their minds and smurf each other.

Now they just had to get back to the village. Back home. It wouldn't be hard though, and it would mean reuniting with their family and getting turned back to normal through some spell or other Papa Smurf would know. Would he actually know, though, really? That was the haunting question. Adults weren't invincible or infallible, they had been taught that early on. They were still people, and people could smurf mistakes. It was nice to think they could do no wrong and could solve everything, but it wasn't real or sensible. Would the village be in any state to help them? Maybe, maybe not. They would see, wouldn't they? What if they were turned away, the scariest of thoughts? Well… If the village did, then they were just confused, and, honestly, they wouldn't smurf that anyway. If they did, the Smurflings could take care of themselves until the mistake was rectified. It felt good to be with them again, and Nat was not going to lose them like that. It would probably be months before he stopped making sure where they were or watching them like a hawk, because that was what he was going to smurf.

"Smurftastic to see you again." Slouchy said after they detangled from each other and started to walk again. Nat gave him a big smile and thought of how he was never going to take any of them for granted again either. He never knew he could smurf so much in such a small while. Hadn't there been a time when they weren't always together or thinking about the others?

"And it's equally great to see you three." That hardly covered how happy he was, but no words seemed like they would ever fit exactly how exhilarated he was. "What happened to you and Sassette, though?" Both were bleeding and scratched, suggesting all had not gone well. Slouchy stiffening up only confirmed that.

"Apparently the red eyed thing can smurf a lot more damage than just transforming Smurfs." Nat shuddered, multiple possibilities filling his head. Slouchy didn't care to explain further.

"Which means?" Nat regretted asking, but he felt he had to know. It had ended up hurting two of his best friends, whatever it was.

"Sassette lost it. It took a few claws to the face to smurf her out of it." Slouchy averted his eyes, an action which meant he really didn't want to talk any more about it than he already had. In fact, it didn't seem like he'd wanted to talk about it at all in the first place.

"She seems alright now." Slouchy grunted. "I guess the question is if you're alight."

"I could be worse." Not a no, but definitely not a yes. Slouchy sighed and let his head droop a little. "But I'm not alright, not really." That was the answer Nat had already known. That was the answer Slouchy needed to admit.

"You will be, though, when we get back to the village." Not a question. "And we will smurf back." To Nat's immense relief, Slouchy seemed to agree with him. He walked over to Sassette and started talk to her, tail twitching every now and then. Nat walked solo for a while when that went on, only to be joined by a surprisingly silent Snappy.

"So." Nat held back a small laugh in favor of raising an eyebrow.

"So." Snappy responded in turn. It worked wonderfully until they got a look at one another and smurfed out into laughter. Nothing lifted spirits better than making silly faces in a gloomy area. And Nat had to admit, they had been making some rather silly faces. Jokey would most likely have approved if he were there. "You guys were okay? I mean, for the most part?" Nat quickly added the last part at Snappy's incredulous look.

"If you mean besides Sassette and Slouchy smurfing each other, yeah. It was just like it is now, we were cold, hungry, and the weather was awful. The only difference is now we've got you here, which is a big improvement from not." He stumbled over some of the words, as Nat could only expect. Snappy had never been any good when it came to showing his emotions or explaining them. He was almost positive that Snappy was just as relieved to see him as Nat was to see them, not that he was going to let Snappy knew he smurfed that. "How do you think the village is smurfing?"

"I'm sure they're fine." Snappy looked like he doubted that. "If they aren't, we know they'll be fine soon. We've recovered from worse." Not much was, but there had been certain incidents that had been scarier or more deadly. For instance, the time the Long Life Stone had started to lose its magic still held the top spot for most terrifying and life threatening. Brainy turning into a werewolf had been less dangerous, but no less terrifying. Sassette running away to Gargamel was a lot scarier now then it was then, most likely thanks to the fact that they'd become best friends after that. The more he thought about, he realized with a wiry smile, the more clear it became that this adventure of sorts didn't even make it onto the list of the top three. Maybe top five, but that still meant this wasn't anywhere near the worst. They _would_ get through this.

* * *

"H-how are you feeling Marco?" Marina wished there was a better way to ask that question, or, even more desirably, a better question to ask. She had waited until Marco seemed to calm down a bit, but even then no better ones came. Said Smurf-turned-Merman was still out of it, literally shaking. It was probably because of fear, as Marina understood it, because no one could take a shock like this all at once without being at least a little scared. Marco proved right after that he wasn't just anybody.

"How am I feeling? How am I _feeling_?! My dear Marina, I've never been smurfier!" For whatever strange reason, Marco seemed to actually be delighted with what had happened. Marina realized that also meant he was shaking from excitement, not because he was scared or in shock. Smurfs, as much as she loved Handy and his family, were the weirdest of people. They were probably the weirdest of _any_ creature, to be honest. Seeing that look, a wild one which she had seen before on excited seahorses, in Marco's eye only further cemented this belief. If only she could look at the situation like that. But no, she saw it in a far darker light. Her friend had been transformed magically and against his will, an act which drew blood and caused pain. How was she going to get him back to normal, back to his family?

"Marco, please calm down. We need to think of a way to get you back to normal." The resulting reaction wasn't all too far from telling said excited seahorse they couldn't swim as fast as they wanted if at all. Marco was still twitchy, if only slightly, when he took a few deep breaths. It occurred to her, as it may have occurred to a starving person that they were hungry, that Marco was very pleased with the transformation, to the point where the obvious need to get back to normal was not as obvious to him as it should have been.

"Not to be snide or ungrateful Marina, but I don't think that's smurfing to happen any time soon. The only people in the immediate area who could help are on land, somewhere neither of us can smurf without Handy's wonderful invention." As much as she didn't like it, he was right. "Until then, how about we continue what we were doing? Just talking and trying to ignore the insanity of our world." It sounded better than freaking out or despairing over what they couldn't do but needed to.

"Alright, but only on one condition." Marco nodded almost immediately. "After someone comes along or another way to get help presents itself, you are going to immediately do whatever you can to turn back into a Smurf." He nodded again, though far less eagerly this time. They proceeded to talk about anything they could think of to get their minds off of the real issue. Still, it was really unnerving to think of how one could so easily give up their past identity in favor of a new one, especially when that new identity meant changing species entirely.

* * *

"Mother Nature?" By some stroke of luck, Dabbler had made it. Much to his relief, that also meant he had not died trying either. It had taken a lot of guessing and perseverance, but it was finally paying off. There was one teeny, tiny little snag, unfortunately. How in the world was he going to get her attention if she didn't even know he was at her door? Moving was becoming harder by the second, but he would not fail now after smurfing it literally to her doorstep. He tried to knock on the door with his tail, yet it was impossible to distinguish it from the banging of the wind. Dabbler, in a fit of desperation and inspiration, managed to find a way to squeeze through under the door to inside. It was a tight fit, but he did eventually smurf in to the household of the one and only Mother Nature. Once he regained enough heat to think properly and speak more coherently, Dabbler cleared his throat and spoke. "Mother Nature?"

"Who is it? I really wasn't expecting company today." Repressing the inappropriate urge to snicker, Dabbler wondered if anyone truly did expect any company today with the weather smurfing on as horribly as it was. "Oh, hello there. Now what in the world are you doing here instead of tucked safely away in a shrub or tree?" Mother Nature could talk to animals, he knew, which meant she must have been able to understand them.

"Mother Nature! It's me, Dabbler. I'm a Smurf, not a chameleon." Her cheery mood took a serious downturn after that.

"Dabbler?! Whatever in the world is a Smurf doing as a chameleon, and in such rotten conditions?" Mother Nature, as he knew, often had little reason to worry. She was, after all, Mother Nature. As such, she was also the protector of all animals and plants, and would probably not take well to the news.

"I was attacked by some magical red eyed creature, and this is the result of its attack. I am not the only one, and these attacks were not in self-defense nor coincidences smurfed on by unforetold conditions." Perhaps he was being too formal or too informal, but Dabbler was far too relieved to be able to tell all this to someone who could actually do something to care that he was also smurfing to the great Mother Nature herself who created and took care of almost every function of life. As he expected but had also feared, Mother Nature was not at all pleased and even seemed to shake after he spoke those two simple sentences.

"Did you see anything else about this… creature?" Thank smurf Mother Nature seemed to be fond of the Smurfs, because Dabbler was certain this was a side of her he would never want to be on the receiving end of, and he would certainly never want to smurf this side being directed at any of his family.

"No. What I do know, however, is that its bites and scratches are the causes of these 'infections' and it has smurfed both young and old." Images of Sassette's bleedings scratches flashed through his mind and made his scales turn a dark green. The thing, whatever it truly was or was not, had no sense of decency or morals. That was going to smurf it in its rear, and soon. Mother Nature seemed to shake even more before finally throwing her hands up into the air.

"I don't know why I even let that mistake continue on, I just knew something like this was going to happen." From the sounds of it, Mother Nature knew more than he originally thought she would've. Which was stupid, in hindsight. She was Mother Nature, for crying out loud, which meant that every creature in existence had been crafted by her at one point or another. "*Sigh* Unfortunately, I think I do know the creature you're referring to. Before I tell you anymore, though, I want to make it absolutely clear that I treasure and adore each and every single being I have ever made." By the sounds of it, there was a story to be told here. Dabbler calmed down, and once again his scales turned gray. "I'll explain it on our way to your village." She opened the door with an umbrella that apparently made everything underneath it warm as a summer's afternoon.

"Can't you just teleport there?" The words slipped out before Dabbler's mind caught up with what his idiotic mouth was saying. Thankfully, Mother Nature took it in good stride.

"I suppose I could, but that would take up a fair deal of magic I would rather use to undo just what this mystery creature of yours has done." They continued on in a silence that lasted for four long minutes. "It was more than two thousand years ago when this started, but back then I had no idea just how badly things were going to spiral out of control. I was struck by one of my little inspirational bouts, and had wanted to create a new magical creature. Something far different from the others I had already made, you understand, not some simple copy or hybrid." Dabbler could almost see the actions as they were described, Mother Nature dutifully working over a large cauldron and pondering over just how magnificently different her latest creation would be. "Everything seemed perfect. The creature would have glowing red eyes, but not the hypnotic type of Vampires, no. They were to simple be glowing red eyes. I gave them feathers but no wings nor tail. In fact, every little detail was incorporated flawlessly… Until a shelf gave way and numerous components were tossed into the mix." He could see that too, Mother Nature smiling as she worked, only to jump back in shock when her creation was muddled.

"What exactly were the ingredients that smurfed in?" Dabbler wondered how something that had sounded so normal, as far as magical creatures went, turned into the red eyed monster.

"Oh, things that should never be mixed together, or at least should be added carefully. Shadows, for one thing, were the first to get it, and what would give it fur and scales went tumbling after. Next were extra body parts that it certainly didn't need, like fins and other sea creature parts. The thing that makes its bites work as they do went in last, but I have no simple name for it. My creation crawled, slithered, and leaped out, and what bits weren't covered in darkness looked like the mish-mashed parts of many different animals." Yet again the scene appeared in Dabbler's head, the creature that had been terrorizing him smurfing into existence as a literal, if unintentional, monster. "At first I wanted to erase it immediately, start again from scratch. Then I saw that the new creature, while different, was still one of my creatures and did not deserve such a fate because of a foolish mistake on my part. So, I more or less 'made a deal' with it, as the saying goes. I would create it a mate so they could, perhaps, begin a small clan or group, one that would interbreed with one or two other species until it had blended, in return for neither it nor any others of its kind using the dangerous power it had accidently been granted. They made a home underground, deep beneath this forest, and I heard nothing more from them or their mate until a thousand years later." It was amazing, if not surprisingly reasonable, how Mother Nature could talk about a thousand years as if it were less than half a week.

"A thousand years?!" Dabbler himself had trouble wrapping his mind around the amount of time in question. Just how long _had_ the red eyed creature been alive? Why, even a Smurf would be lucky to live to a thousand.

"Yes. They had grown a colony of sorts, interbreeding as I had expected with lizards or rodents. What caused me to worry about them once more was the daughter of the original two. You see, she'd somehow mastered the ability to twist darkness faster and better than either of her parents, and used such a skill as well as her bite to take revenge on numerous creatures. She believed it to be akin to a sport." Dabbler shuddered as the wind howled louder and faster, the very weather around them reacting as the story grew more chilling. "I was able to reverse the transformations, but only once I'd gotten her to see that was she was doing was very wrong and very dangerous. I gave them all a warning that it was not to happen ever again, or I would permanently alter or even wipeout the species." He shivered. For all of Mother Nature's kindness, there was a wrath of equal strength brought on by the harming of her creatures that no one would ever want to face.

"That means either she or one of their, um, 'colony' has ignored that warning, doesn't it?" Dabbler didn't really enjoy it when he was right about something like this. Mother Nature paused in her dashing and sighed.

"Yes, it does. I do not break my promises, but I also don't like having to punish people. Unfortunately, I can't let something like this slide, and I may not be able to properly reverse all the damage this time." That wasn't something Dabbler liked to smurf either. "You understand, they have to realize that what they've done is wrong and admit such out loud while meaning it. If this is one of her, the one that originally started transforming others, descendants, then their powers could be even more twisted or powerful, and the damage done might be twenty times greater than it could ever have been back then. I will try to get your family back Dabbler, but I can't promise anything." Dabbler's scales turned a bright red and he wondered if this was how angry humans felt, so ready to end or torture whatever menace had harmed their loved ones so. It was an interesting experience, one that, admittedly, frightened the living smurf out of him when he recalled it later.

"How… How could it have changed, over a thousand years, if this really is one of her descendants?" Mother Nature was silent for a moment or two. A few more moments passed and Dabbler wondered if she had heard him or if he had said something wrong.

"If this is indeed a different one, it could be anything from it just being more painful to it erasing their personalities and even their minds." The answer was a very chilling one that was not at all pleasant to smurf about. Dabbler involuntarily shuddered and gulped, his scales turning a dark gray. Mother Nature, he hoped for perhaps the very first time, needed to be wrong on this one. It was not a smurfy outcome otherwise. "Last time my attention was specifically brought to their colony was a decade ago, when the latest was born. Well, not exactly 'born', but laid. It takes quite a while for them to hatch, if I remember correctly."

* * *

"So, may I ask how you two are acquainted?" Bayard asked while the humans chatted. Smurfette and Hefty both gave each other nervous looks and more or less shrugged, each giving a different answer at the same time.

"Well, I met her at a human village-"

"We met in the forest-"

"Which is it?" Biquette questioned, her and Bayard both looking at them strangely as the two fumbled with their words.

"I first saw her from a distance at a human village-" Hefty started, and Smurfette finished for him.

"And we officially met a while later in this forest." Neither believed it, if the skeptical looks they sported were to be believed. However, neither questioned it either, and Bayard changed the subject, much to Hefty and Smurfette's relief.

"Mhmm. How is it possible for you to be Andy's horse if he really is a magical creature?" Again, Hefty fumbled with the answer. After all, how was he going to answer that without being contradicted later on by whatever Andy, Johan, and Peewit smurfed out?

"Humans aren't the only ones who can own horses, you know. Many Goblins, Trolls, Imps, and Elves can and have." He hadn't personally met many or even any of said creatures that actually did, but it was more or less common knowledge that horses were favored among those races. Perhaps he had revealed too much, though. Bayard was back to being very suspicious, and Biquette looked like she was scheming. It was a look Jokey got before playing one of his more well thought out pranks or Brainy before going into a lecture that was hours long. It was not a good look. It smurfed very bad things to come, always.

"What was it our two riders just answered?" Biquette asked suddenly, and soon all four of them were straining their ears in case said question or answer was repeated.

"Would you repeat that?" Luck was apparently in their side. "_What_ magic creature lives around here?" Johan cleared his throat after fidgeting and Peewit looked ready to cackle. Hefty and Smurfette both gave each other looks that were mixes of desperation and hope. They couldn't possibly be talking about what they thought they were smurfing about. Even if they were, was their some chance Johan and Peewit would be able to help them?

"Smurfs." The answer was given by both Johan and Peewit and the same time, one sounding cheerful while the other sounded more withdrawn. Handy literally went limp at those words and passed out, causing a jolt of alarm on Hefty's part. What could have made him do that? Was Handy ill or had he been attacked? Neither seemed to be true, and everyone else seemed just as confused and stunned by it. Whatever had smurfed, they wouldn't know until he regained consciousness. Still, it happened so abruptly that Hefty had to at least try to whisper some encouraging words; of course, only once Bayard and Biquette were too busy trying to help their riders figure out what had happened.

"Pal, get up." He was _not_ desperate. That was _not_ desperation in his voice, just…. Exasperation. Yeah. Hefty was _not_ going to get desperate over a little thing like his best friend smurfing out for no discernable reason. "Come on, no silly word's going to take you down like that." Especially not when said silly word was the name of their family. Much to his amazement, Handy actually did respond. He clutched harder at his neck and started whispering again at a rapid and frantic pace.

"Make it stop, please make them stop, I didn't mean to! I didn't ask for it, I tried to fight it, and now I'm trapped. Trapped in here and I can't get out and please, smurf me out of here!" The more he muttered, the more puzzled and confused Hefty and Smurfette became. Smurfette seemed to understand after a few moments, though, and her eyes smurfed up in a veritable eureka moment.

"Hefty, remember that time Gargamel tried to make me revert to my old self?" Her voice was still low enough that the other two animals couldn't hear her, but Hefty did.

"What about it?" It was not a fun time or something he'd like to remember. Smurfette, _their_ sweet, kind, and all around gentle Smurfette, had almost been stolen from them by Gargamel thanks to one of his many spells. If it hadn't been for Baby being put in mortal peril, Smurfette could have permanently been lost to them. Cheery thoughts, those. What did that have to do with Handy's situation?

"Well, there were basically two mes: Me, the one who hates Gargamel and loves my family, and a different me, one who could care less for my family and was more or less loyal to Gargamel. During the time when the other me tried to take over, we were basically constantly smurfing for control. I was trapped in my own mind, unable to do anything or stop the other me. What if, for whatever reason, the red eyed creature's attack put Handy in a similar situation? There's him, the Smurf we know and love, and then there's-" She was cut off.

"Andy, the confused human." Not necessarily a bad person or anything, but also _not_ his best friend or brother. "So Handy's trapped and all we need to do is smurf something to snap him out of it? Something so that he overpowers Andy?" Bayard's ears picked up. They'd been talking to loud, it seemed. Lowering his voice considerably, Hefty continued. "What exactly can we do, though? It took Baby nearly being killed to snap you out if it. We don't even know if anything can smurf Handy back to normal or even just let his mind 'free'." The words were far from comforting. They were the truth, unfortunately, but they were not words he wanted to have constantly smurfing around his head as they were. It was also frustrating, to know his best friend was literally right on top of him yet unable to get himself loose from the mental trap he was stuck in. Smurfette's pained expression echoed his thoughts perfectly almost perfectly. Things were insane, but how could they fix them?

"Maybe just talking him out of it will work. If we can provide a safety line of sorts to smurf him out of his stupor, maybe he'll return to normal." If only. Maybe it would work, though. Just maybe. "When you tried to talk to him, he at least woke up. If you keep trying, that just might be enough." It made sense, but would it work?

"Alright. You've got to try too, though. I'm not going to smurf as much luck on my own as we would together." Smurfette nodded. She hoped she was right, but what if she wasn't? What if they only made it worse? What if-

"Ready?" What if she was worrying too much and not smurfing anything? If they never tried, they'd never know. Smurfette steadied herself and gave what she hoped was a natural-looking smile. "Together now, one. Two. Three." Hefty seemed as nervous as she was, judging by his slight fidgeting, and Smurfette wasn't sure if that was scary or comforting. He started as he had been, and Smurfette soon joined in.

"Handy, it's not your fault. It was an accident." Not that Hefty had any clue what he was denying, but since that seemed to help, he smurfed it.

"It's fine Handy, we're here." Smurfette bit her lip as she said it, but her voice didn't waver.

"No. It's not. It can't be. You're lying, but I'm not going to smurf for it." Stubborn to the last. Hefty wanted to just go in there and drag Handy out. "You can't fool me. Leave. I didn't mean to, stop punishing me." Dead end by all accounts. Smurfette, however, looked like she'd gotten another idea.

"What if we find out _what's_ smurfing at him? Then we can help him see it's not his fault and that might work." That sounded better than talking to a brick wall.

"Okay. Handy, what are they- er, we blaming you for?" Hopefully that would work. Handy clutched at his neck tighter, and stayed quiet for another minute.

"This. What I am, even if I don't want to smurf it. Why do you ask me, you already know." The two hooved creatures that were once Smurfs turned to look at each other. Hefty was ready to strangle anybody who had smurfed his best friend that idea, and Smurfette was horrified. He couldn't mean- He did, of course, didn't he. Whatever had even hinted at that idea was going to die. Violently and drawn out, hopefully. This was horrifying, inexcusable, and unfit for such a nice Smurf to even be thinking about. Handy meant that in whatever daze he was in, there were other Smurfs, themselves included, who were blaming him for becoming Human. A terrifying fate to be sure, but certainly not his fault. Smurfette wanted to cry. It wasn't fair to him. It really wasn't. To be trapped in your own mind was horrible, but to be trapped there with illusions of your family yelling and jeering at you… Well, it was as nasty as Gargamel. Hefty, on the other hand, wanted to hit something. Hard. Honestly, it hurt to think your own best friend saw you as something to fear, but that was his own fault Somehow, he had made Handy think he was mad at him for something beyond his control.

"Think about it. Would I smurf something like that to my brother and best friend?" Handy fidgeted a bit here. Hopefully that would make him realize how ridiculous his nightmare of sorts was.

"You don't see me as your brother and best friend, not know that I'm _this_." Drat. So much for that angle. "You said so yourself." He had? When? "Just now." Before the two had tried to help him then. Hefty himself hadn't said that, the figment that represented him had. Smurfette figured it out quickly, but Hefty apparently hadn't. He looked like someone had just smurfed him in the face with a mallet. She realized she had better explain before he let that get to him.

"Hefty." He looked at her. Utterly crushed, too. "He doesn't mean _you_. He means the version of you in his head." Hopefully that made sense.

"So that means…" Hefty seemed to be connecting the dots. Smurfette could only hope he knew what she meant, that he wasn't the one who had insulted Handy so. Judging by the more or less relieved look on Hefty's face, she would have to smurf he understood it well enough. "Pal, that wasn't me. You're, um, trapped. You've got to try and smurf out. Come on, would I really say that to you? Really?" Handy shook his head a fraction, which was either really good or really bad. If he understood and that was why he was nodding, that was really good. If he was in denial about it, that was understandably very bad.

"Handy, if you don't smurf out of there soon- Well, Marina's awful worried." Hefty knew as soon as she finished exactly what Smurfette was smurfing at. If that didn't jolt Handy, nothing would. "The Clockworks are worried too. You know, they might be in danger." That was true too. The Clockworks neither had seen, and they definitely could've gotten damaged in the storm. Marina could have been nearby, he supposed. That was more of a stretch. It was very unlikely she was, but not impossible to smurf. She probably would be very worried about Handy if she knew what was going on too.

"Marina? The Clockworks? Marina?!" Sure enough, he started to stir. Would it be Handy or Andy who was at the helm, though? That was the question. A thought that should have occurred to him earlier also came up as the human on his back loosened his grip.

"Any idea how we were able to talk to him anyway?" He whispered to Smurfette, not wanting to be overheard by any of the others. Smurfette shrugged, equally at a loss.

"Maybe it's because we were all Smurfs before. Maybe it's because the monster's bite didn't smurf completely. Honestly? I'm not really sure. I was hoping you knew." The two ignored it for then, but it was a question that needed an answer eventually. The bigger and more immediate one was if Handy would still understand them.


	13. Chapter 13

Baby was young, yes, very young, but even he knew there was danger afoot. A huge animal he had never seen before had come and attacked Nanny while trying to attack Smoogle, and still its red eyes seemed to be right round the corner. He smurfed for his family, but no one answered in the fog. Puppy didn't come either, so he must've still been missing. There was something else out there, besides the monster and the fog, though, something that growled and huffed. Out from behind the broken pieces of a house, a badger came charging along with a spotted dog-ish thing. He almost cried out again, very scared at the two animals that were possibly dangerous or sick.

Then he took a good smurf at the badger and realized that it was coming to protect him, as evident by it circling around with its back turned to him. The animal that wasn't quite a dog followed suit, and Baby felt much safer. Really confused, yes, but much more secure. He stopped smurfing and realized he was very tired. Crying could take a lot out of a Smurf, especially when they were just a scared and confused baby. He wanted his family, the warmth and comfort they brought. He wanted the smiles and laughs and comforting hugs and words.

Then a wolf came and started to attack the two newcomers and, tired or not, Baby started to smurf out for help again. The wolf, which had brown fur and startling blue eyes, paused for a moment. Then he barked and growled a bit at the other two. The badger growled back while the cat-dog yipped. They smurfed on like that for a while, going back and forth, snarling and barking, and allowing Baby to calm down. He was so tired, but if he slept what would he wake up to? He needed to smurf what was going to happen to his two brave protectors and to the scary wolf.

They didn't seem so scary, the more Baby thought about it. Each had amazingly nice eyes and none had directly attacked him or shown him any ill will. Yet. What was really interesting, though, was the way they seemed to be relaxing their guards and even getting excited. They weren't get angry-excited, like they wanted to hurt anyone. No, they were happy-excited, like how his family got when playing or getting interested in a really good story. Maybe, just maybe, things were going to smurf out okay.

* * *

Jokey waited patiently as the newcomer and Grouchy fought it out verbally.

Could it really be?

_Of course it's him._

**It's a trick, this is fake.**

What if it's a trick?

_What if he's real, though? Then what?_

**If he's fake, however, then we're doomed due to our own stupidity. Do you want that?**

No, but what if he isn't?

_We will have lost our only chance, and be stuck like this permanently._

**Are you sure you even know what you're smurfing?**

_Wait wait wait wait. You want to be like this forever, don't you?_

That's ridiculous. We all want to smurf back to normal.

_Oh no, it's the truth. Isn't it?_

**…Maybe.**

What?!

_Are you insane? If we don't get back to normal, then… then…_

**Then what?! We stay like this. Is that so wrong?**

You're scared aren't you? I am too.

_Why are you scared? Don't you want us to be normal again?_

**Don't act so high and mighty. We both know you're scared as well.**

Why are we scared? Shouldn't we want to be normal again?

_We should._

**But we don't. Being an individual, it's different. We know what it's like to think and act as one, but now? Now we know what it's like to be separate. And I…I think, without input from either of you or any other source, that we like that more. That I like that more. Freedom is good. Different, yes, very different, but also very good.**

Yes. Freedom, difference, it's… Wonderful. The best thing in the world, in any world. But what about us, the person we were? The Smurf we made. Would that be fair? To them, to the others?

**The others?! Bah, they don't care. Why, they might even be glad to be rid of him, to be rid of us. And anyhow, the Smurf we were was us, more or less. What we decide is what they would've decided.**

_T-that's not true. If they really wouldn't c-care, why'd Grouchy help us? You know we thought d-differently as an individual, so maybe we wouldn't have chosen this._

**He didn't want blood directly on his hands, of course. That'd be too obvious. However, if we were to just freeze to death without any direct cause, there would be no moral dilemma.**

_Liar!_

Hold up, I've got an idea. What if we could find out the truth using a- a test?

**_A test?_**

Yes, of sorts.

_What is this test?_

We come clean, if this really is Papa Smurf, before we are turned back. Then we give them a choice. A choice about what they think we should and can do.

**Are you out of your-**

_That's actually a pretty good idea._

**It is?**

_Yes. If they accept us for being individuals, separate and free, then obviously they'll accept us as going back to Jokey. If they try to force us back to normal, then at least we know they want us back as we were, even if we certainly won't agree with them if they try to use violent tactics. If they d-don't care…_

**Then they don't care and we skedaddle.**

Then we're settled.

* * *

"I'd hate it if you were lying." Grouchy was torn between rushing up to greet the wolf who claimed to be his father and smurfing his lying throat out. It was possible that they were telling the truth, but there was also the possibility they were lying and that it was all a trick… "_You'll_ hate it if you're lying."

"I don't doubt that, Grouchy. I hope _you're_ not lying to me." He hadn't told them his name. Despite himself, Grouchy could already feel his guard and resolve crumbling under hope and desperation he tried very hard to smurf up again. After all, this just meant it had to be a very clever trick. Besides that, he had to be _very_ cautious. Both Baby and the somewhat deranged Jokey were in no state to protect or defend themselves. Jokey already seemed to be zoned out, having gone near catatonic after the wolf claimed to be Papa Smurf. Even as Grouchy continued speaking and trying to oust the intruder, Baby seemed to grow sleepier and sleepier while Jokey grew more and more unresponsive. Some help they were, truly. He didn't expect much out of them anyway. Baby was understandably tired and just a baby, and Jokey was a no good prankster with the mentality of a baby.

"I hate not smurfing the truth." That was very accurate, too. Grouchy couldn't stand this guessing game, such as it was.

"As do I. I still don't know if that's really you. Answer me this: Did you, or did you not, smurf willingly into a rotten bog on your birthday?" This was better. Grouchy nodded, growling a bit as the memories of said birthday sprung back up. He hate that bog, hated that birthday, hated the whole thing.

"I hate not knowing who you really are. I hate thinking about how I had to bring Baby back so you could smurf him away." The second sentence would be completely out of the blue to anyone else, but the wolf recognized it for the test it was.

"Yes, as I recall, you weren't at all pleased with yourself for having to come and smurf him back. It was a good thing the wolves helped you." Perhaps that was still too ambiguous an answer to trust, but Grouchy's walls collapsed at that point and it was hard for him to care much about it any longer.

So too did Papa Smurf's walls fall, and he cared just as much by that point. These really were his two children, alive and whole, if not a bit beat up. He rushed over to the badger, Grouchy, and practically smurfed him in the happiest of death grips. Eventually he let go and moved over to Jokey, only to stop when Papa Smurf realized how utterly out of it his other son seemed. Jokey's mouth was moving rapidly, almost like he was talking to someone, but no words were audible.

"Jokey?" A glance at Grouchy and Papa Smurf was utterly lost. "Grouchy, when in the world did he smurf like this?"

"I hate when he smurfed liked this." Great. Translation: Not a clue, you tell me. Papa Smurf walked carefully around Jokey, nudging him gently with his nose as he did so. Still nothing. He was still stiff with only his mouth moving.

"Jokey?" Papa Smurf asked again, now smurfing him with his whole body. No movement of any kind. He would've continued, but a now familiar shrill laugh echoed from behind him. No. That _thing_ was _not_ going to smurf any of his children again. He had had enough. He'd had more than enough. That shape shifter was going to smurf down, one way or another. Wait, that wasn't what he wanted. The beast, the wolf that fit his new body, was trying to take over his mind. Papa Smurf needed to think clearly if he was going to retain his identity and sanity. Did he want to, though, really? The wolf could take care of it for him, destroy his new enemy or die trying. This was the foul creature that had brought him nothing but pain and misery, and did everything it could to harm his family. If Papa Smurf let the wolf at it, then he would lose any control he still had, possibly forever. Yet he would finally smurf revenge, revenge that deep down he really wanted. The wolf was aching to be set free anyway; two birds would be smurfed with one stone…

No. That was no example to set, and he needed to smurf as sane as he could for the sake of his children. Even if he wanted that thing dead, no one would benefit. Papa Smurf locked the wolf back up away as quickly as he could, upset with himself for even considering letting it out. His decision proved to be correct and just in time. The shriek-like laughter became louder and Papa Smurf knew, even without looking, that the monster was right behind them.

* * *

How far could a sloth get, even if they were smurfing as if their tail was on fire? Pretty far, actually. Lazy had made it halfway to Gargamel's hovel by the time his heart stopped pumping fifty miles per hour. His head pounded at a similar rate but showed no signs of stopping. His arm, where he had been scratched, felt fine, but he was not going to let that fool him. Lazy'd seen what simple scratches or bites had done to the others, and he knew that even if he couldn't feel any pain, the changes had still happened. Now, he had two choices: Fall asleep now and get back to the village later, or get to the village now and fall asleep later. He was smurfing more towards falling asleep now and dealing with everything else eventually. If he tried to find the village, he'd probably get lost or fall into some kind of trap. Besides, taking a nap sounded like a really good plan.

Unfortunately, getting back to normal was what his conscience wanted him to do first, curse the dratted thing, so that's what Lazy was going to try and smurf. As he moved slowly, taking breaks every so often to rest, something with feathers and two rapidly flapping wings crashed into him. They were smashed up into a great tumbling squawking mess, and stayed like that in a fury of feathers and fur for at least a minute. When he finally unsmurfed himself from the bird, another one went slamming into them and they were back to tussling and squawking. When Lazy once more slunk away from the big ball of violence, the two birds continued while shouting things at the other. The more he listened, the more he realized that it was a very good thing to have smurfed into these two. Well, he may have noticed, and was certainly lucky for such. The other two…It took them a second to figure it out.

"Watch where you smurf that wing, will you?" Neither was getting too violent, it seemed, but Lazy managed to catch a glimpse of the other bird's bloodied feathers. That didn't make sense, though, as he was fairly sure that he knew the grey feathered bird with the strange accent.

"Gladly, as soon as you stop smurfing my neck!" That other bird, the one with the colorful plumage that had smurfed into him first, also sounded familiar. After all, how many creatures use the word "smurf" in the right context?

"Then smurf it on jabbin me in me eye!" Alright, no doubt, that was Sweepy. If Lazy was right, and he was pretty sure he was, then the colorful one was Reporter. No one else had that voice, the one that drove numerous antisocial Smurfs up the wall and onto the roof.

"Only if you stop smurfing my neck!" Reporter's neck was a bloody mess to begin with, thanks to his little spat with Brainy, and the other bird pecking it and stabbing it with their feet was really unhelpful. The sloth he'd first run into had stopped hitting him, but it took a few moments for his brain to make that connection. It took twice as many moments for him to realize what the other bird was saying and how they talked. Being who he was, he knew a lot of Smurfs, but only one had that kind of accent and talked that way. Sweepy also seemed to realize at the same time just whose neck he was smurfing and who had been smurfing his eye.

"Sweepy?' The other bird asked a very similar question at the exact same time. What luck.

"Reporter?' Since they stopped fighting, they both also noticed that the sloth was lazing about a small ways away from where they had been fighting. They slowly raised a paw and waved at them. Reporter and Sweepy looked at the sloth and then back at each other. There weren't any sloths around the forest, and the only way they had smurfed them before was thanks to a few that were in a circus. So, this sloth was probably another Smurf. No, judging by the smirk and the way they were looking at them, they _definitely_ were.

"Nice to see you too." The two birds gave each other a look that conveyed everything they needed to know: Lazy. Who better to be a sloth? Who else had a voice that drawled like that anyway, the kind that sounded mumbled and almost whispered? "You look like you've been to smurf and back, Reporter. Sweepy do that to your neck?" Said bird looked guiltily at the torn area, but Reporter already knew it wasn't his fault. Sweepy, however, didn't smurf what he knew.

"I'm sorry, Reporter, I 'ad no intention of smurfin anythin like that, mate." He was brushed off with a shrug of the wings and a hollow laugh.

"No like you smurfed it, Brainy did." That got disbelieving looks from the other two. They couldn't be blamed, not really. Reporter himself would've had a hard time believing it if he hadn't witnessed it firsthand.

"Brainy." Lazy was just full of snark today. The statement wasn't a question, but somehow synonymous with "Whatever you say, crazy." Sweepy apparently had similar sentiments but didn't put it quite like that.

"Ain't 'e always talking about supposedly bein above violence? And, you know, not a fighter." Reporter could understand where they were coming from, again reminding himself how he too would've been disbelieving, but he also knew very well how almost any Smurf could be violent if and when they were properly motivated. Not that Reporter was quite sure what Brainy's motivation had been. Maybe fear, maybe anger, maybe a mix of the two or something completely different. His motivation had been just as unclear, but the more he thought about it the bigger his headache got.

In Sweepy's opinion, though he was probably wrong, Brainy more or less smurfed any and all violence when it involved him. The thought that he, in any form, would be capable of doing such a number on Reporter was almost laughable. Still, the very colorful bird that was also his brother had a very battered neck and bloody cuts all over.

"Can I assume you smurfed a similar number to him?" Reporter gave another hollow laugh that was getting freakier the more he did it.

"You could say that." Reporter walked, rather than flew, over to Lazy and avoided the eyes of both their brother and Sweepy himself. It was interesting, the chimney sweep noted, how even as a bird Reporter's walk still had the same old swagger to it. They may have been different animals, but they were still the same deep down. He shuddered to think about what would have happened and what could happen if they did change with their mutations. If they changed, would they still talk and act the same way? For example, would he still have the accent that he was proud of, the one that always made it so easy to tell him apart from the others? Would Reporter still have the voice he did, the one that wasn't quite smarmy and immediately alerted anyone that if they had something to hide they'd better smurf for it. The only way he'd even recognized both Lazy and Reporter was by the way they talked and acted, but if that was gone, he'd have never thought it was them. They probably wouldn't' have recognized him either.

Sweepy hopped over towards his friends as they started walking, mind pushing way what he assumed was one smurf of a headache. They made many, _many_ breaks, often due to Lazy lagging behind or outright stopping in favor of a quick nap. That was their brother, but of all the bloody times... Well, it was exasperating and amusing if anything. As they ventured onward, his mind kept straying back to where he had last seen the others and been attacked. Sweepy hoped they were okay, but anything could have happened. All in all, they had been, and probably still were, in one smurf of a sticky wicket. If -when- they got back to the village, he could only hope they would all be in one piece and away from that monster.

* * *

Marina wanted to get Marco back to normal and find out if Handy was alright immediately. Marco, quite obviously, was in no such rush. He did calm down and go back to being much more sympathetic to her plight. Ha, her plight. As if she was the one who had been forced to change species and get ruthlessly clawed by a something. Still, it seemed the shock that was supposed to come never would. They talked about fish, about life, about the life of fish and other sea creatures, and anything that crossed their minds was discussed. All throughout it, Marco was nothing but curious and nice, never showing any signs of displacement or discomfort. Why did that bother her so much? Why wasn't she pleased that there were no signs of anything bad or harmful in her friend?

Because there was supposed to be _something_, anything. It was like when a wound didn't bleed and didn't heal. No blood was good, but if there wasn't any of it or any healing then something was definitely wrong. Marco took to his new tail like a, well, like a fish. Another reason, as loath as she was to admit it, was that she was jealous. Why couldn't it have been Handy? Would he have taken it as well? Maybe, maybe not. Marina would never know. That was really a big part of it, not knowing. Of course, there were worse Smurfs than Marco, but why did he get to when she and Handy weren't allowed, even after numerous tries.

Maybe, though Marina was careful not to obsess over the possibility, maybe they would be able to after this. Maybe they would find a way to finally be together, to close the far too large gap between them. Would the village let go of their only builder, though? The only one who, as far as she knew, could build and fix things. Her kingdom needed her, being princess and all, so there was no way she could be on land with him as she had so often dreamed of being able to do. Life was what it was, even if she wished it was different.

He was over the moon, above the stars, but that still didn't excuse him being rude or self-centered. Poor Marina. It hurt, really hurt, to be constantly compared to someone else, but Marco knew that's what was smurfing on. Marina wanted Handy in his place, but had to settle with his apparently less than satisfactory company. No, he mentally berated himself, now was neither the time nor the place for a pity party. Marina was just fine with his company, but she would understandable prefer it if Handy was there instead. They were in love, after all. He was not going to smurf his jealousy overtake his common sense, and he was going to be as a good a friend as he could to Marina while they waited.

Perhaps, if Marina was truly lucky, Handy would be the one to find them. Then he'd probably find some way to be with Marina permanently after finding out how exactly he transformed. If that meant Marco would be of help to both his brother and the fair Marina, so be it. There were worse fates and choices in life, after all. While Marco would also like to stay as a Merman, he knew it wasn't right. If anyone was to go back to normal, he'd also have to. Say Handy didn't find out how to be with Marina, even after studying the transformations and such. Would it be fair for Marco to smurf as he currently was if his brother couldn't? Hardly. However, he would enjoy the time he had left with Marina and underwater in this wonderful form. Even though he had certainly calmed down, the excitement was still lurking under the surface. He was breathing underwater with no outside help, he had a tail, and the ocean was just waiting to be explored.

Who knew, save the creatures that inhabited the depths, what lied in wait. There were great underwater marvels just sitting there, virtually untouched and undiscovered. Marco was itching to smurf them out, but if he did that then they would probably miss anyone if they came by looking for him and others. Others. Funny, how he immediately assumed that other Smurfs had been dragged into it. Marco knew he was probably right, but it was a bitter thing to admit. After all, these things always happened to groups of Smurfs. He was about to ask Marina a question about if these sort of things happened to Merpeople as well when something, not a bird, flew right into the river and collided with them.

Brainy didn't know how exactly he ended up in the River Smurf, but he did. His vision underwater was even worse than it was above, and his hearing went wonky. He was smurfing blind in the freezing water, so it was no shock when he bumped into at least one animal. Probably fish, if he felt the scales right. Breathing was impossible, and the very blurry vision Brainy had started to swim. Whatever he smurfed into guided him up to the surface, though, and the air and help was much appreciated. He somehow made it to the side of the river and up on more or less solid ground before he was able to tell where he was or what was around him. Two Merpeople were not what he had been expecting, if he had been expecting anything in the first place.

"Thanks." Brainy managed to splutter out, a good deal of water still in his throat and nose. "What are *HACK* t-two Merpeople smurfing in the River Smurf? And in t-this weather?" The stutter was not from fear or any emotion of the sort; just the rather pressing issue of trying to breathe. The response he got, however, did bring a few dozen jolts of emotion to his system and sent him into a stuttering fit all over again.

"I could ask the same of you. What's a Smurf doing as a bat and smurfing straight into us for? This is hardly desirable flying weather, I imagine." That was Marco. The two creatures in front of him were Merpeople. Ergo, Marco was somehow here and a Merman. What the smurf was Marco doing here? He was supposed to be far away trading spices and the like, not here and obviously mutated. If he hadn't just smurfed Brainy's life, he'd be getting the lecture of his life and a verbal lashing. As it was, he had saved Brainy's life, so chewing him out wasn't a desirable possibility. "In all seriousness, what's smurfing on, Brainy?"

"I'll smurf you when you tell me what you're doing back in the forest. You're supposed to be out trading and such. How in the world did you know it was me, not that I'm complaining?" As far as Brainy was concerned, he didn't have an accent like Marco did, so it shouldn't have been as obvious. Marco, smurf him, chuckled.

"You're voice. It's- Hmmm, well, it's…" That didn't smurf any, now did it? The other Merperson spoke up, easily identifiable as Marina. Brainy's attention was momentarily stolen away by the large worm he hears behind him, but it snapped back rather quickly when he realizes what she's saying.

"It's nasally, and you sound like you're about to lecture someone." Well! Brainy opened his mouth to retort, nice Mermaid insulting him or not, when a snake struck his battered wing. He should have known worms weren't that big and didn't move that fast.

He was out of his mind. Tracker was out of control and could smurf nothing about it. If he had been in his right mind, and he knew he wasn't, Tracker never would've tried to attack the bat. There was something else controlling him, though. Another mind, the snake itself, was at the reigns. Not that Tracker had anything against snakes, but he would like control of his body, even if it was… slightly different than usual. The snake was equally stubborn in keeping its control, so a mental struggle that felt like years went on while his body smurfed a creature he'd had no intention of harming. When, to his shock and utter surprise, he realized nearby were two Merpeople, one of which was Marina, his discomfort and displeasure with his rather forced actions grew. Tracker had known, of course, that she was at the river when she and Marco had appeared earlier, but who was this second Merperson? They smelled like Marco, and said spice-trader was nowhere to be found. The realization of what must have happened actually smurfed him reeling back and shook loose the snake's control.

What in the name of all that was Smurf was Marco doing as a Merman? His salty scent was even saltier now, but beyond that it was more or less the same, rich with pepper. Tracker knew how it had happened, it was rather easy to figure out, but that still didn't lessen the blow. Well, if Marina was there, and if Marco had been attacked, even though the two had been smurfed to the river to keep them safe in the first place, then Tracker really wouldn't be surprised if the bat was another of his brothers. Flicking his tongue out to get a scent as he dodged some of said bat's half-hearted attacks, Tracker smurfed once more when he realized how on the nose he'd been. There was the very distinct smell of ink and parchment, as well as various parchments. Somewhat fitting that Brainy was a bat, even if he was no doubt displeased with it. A bite, poorly aimed but still painful, to his tail told Tracker that he'd better clear up the confusion fast and apologize. It's hard to, though, what with the snake wrestling mentally against him for control.

"Sssstop." Figures he'd smurf up the s's now. The ceasing of bites to his scaly body was a huge motivator to stay in control and to continue talking. "It'sssss me, ssssssorry about sssssssmurfing your tail." That stopped Brainy dead in his tracks. How lucky Tracker is that his voice and vocabulary identify him for who he is and not some stranger or deranged animal. On the other hand, he feels quite a bit like both, what with mental struggles and the like constantly playing out.

"Tracker?" Both of his brothers ask the question, and it's never been so nice to be recognized.

"In the ssssssmurf." He loses any pride he had when he realizes there's Brainy's blood in his mouth because of a stupid demented attack thanks to a stupid demented snake.

_We shouldn't feel guilty. We're hungry, and it wasn't aware of its surroundings as it should've been._

Smurf, now the stupid demented snake's talking back and trying to justify his-its-_their_ actions. Just what he needed, no? No.

"Why'd you bite me?" Brainy more or less demanded, voice sounding the usual annoyed and- and slightly relieved, which isn't usual. His hearing isn't as good as his sense of smell, though, so Tracker tried not to dwell on what's probably his mind smurfing things up. He was relieved to see them, anyhow, even if they weren't at all in their normal forms. The snake, despite having stopped trying to smurf away control, whispers doubts and fears he doesn't want or need to hear.

_They aren't our brothers. One's half fish and the other doesn't even have scales._

Shut up.

_How do you think they feel about you now? All scales, no limbs, and a superior sense of smell._

His sense of smell had always been quite a bit sharper than theirs, that shouldn't have affected anything.

_Doesn't it now? We're the hunter, and every advantage we have only makes them more vulnerable and easy to strike. They know this, just like we know exactly how we can easily take both of them and the she-half fish down and still be in top shape._

It was right, of course, but Tracker wanted nothing to do with it or this knowledge. Already his mind was replaying the multiple ways he could strike down an unwary bat. The Merpeople would be harder, given how swiftly they could move, but- The smurfing snake had him doing it to himself.

Marina was well aware of such thoughts, even if the other two seemed oblivious of it. The snake, even if it was Tracker, was making the same movements she's seen many underwater predators do when plotting against their prey. She didn't know if Tracker himself was aware of such, but she was. Marina also fully intended to either cut off or destroy said dangerous trains of thought. She slowly, deliberately careful, raised her hand half way up and bared her teeth in something that could barely have been mistaken for a smile. No predator was getting a bite out of her or her friends again. Tracker seemed to get the hint and immediately went back to talking with his brothers while she lowered her hand and gave a real smile. It was still Tracker after all, and apart from just then, which may not even have been his own fault, he hadn't been rude or threatening towards her. If he did step out of line, just one scale… Her siren song hadn't been used yet to attack or distract a snake, but there was a first time for everything.

"I didn't mean to, Brainy. Honessssstly, it wasssss a mistake, I wasssssssn't smurfing clearly." Brainy nodded, but grumbled about his thrashed wing anyway. The more she looked at it, the more Marina noticed that it had a few more marks than just the recent snake bite ones. The storm surely wasn't that bad, was it? It didn't seem to be, but maybe a few particularly strong gusts of wind could've blown him off course and into a tree. No, that didn't seem right either. Those seemed more like bite marks, or something of that kind. Whatever had caused those, they had been going for the kill, and she did not wish to know why. So long as he'd gotten away alive and no one else would be attacked by it, all was well there. There were other issues to be concerned about, anyhow, like getting he and his brothers back to normal. That was much easier said than done, so much easier.

Marco did not notice such action from either, too busy chatting and laughing at the relayed actions of his family. This was when he had missed, this was what he had wanted to know, to smurf from the others, but had been denied. He supposed he could understand, since they had apparently been trying to protect him, at least according to Tracker. Some way of protecting him and a fat load of good it did in the end, but their hearts were in the right place. They always were. His hand subconsciously drifts to his back, where Marco knows he was sliced by the red eyed demon, even if there are no longer any physical markings. At least, that's what Marina has smurfed him. He can't feel any wounds or really any issues of any kind with it, but that smurfing memory just replays itself every time someone so much as glances at the spot. And they do, because he mentioned where the red eyed monster smurfed him when they were catching up.

How Marco wishes it was all or none; fully Smurf with all his memories, or a Merman with none. At least that way, he would be content in either situation. The wish is a selfish one, though, one that would negatively affect the people around him in at least one way. If he were a Merman with no memories, would he want to get back to normal? Probably not, which would mean leaving his family behind without so much as an explanation because he wouldn't know why or who to smurf one to. If he were a Smurf with all his memories, then he'd be incredibly lucky as well as the only lucky one. The three of them, the Smurfs who've been transformed, debated and argued before they finally agreed that everyone else had also probably been transformed too. As such, not only would Marco be more or less alone, but it would be terribly unfair for him to be the same while no one else was.

"How'd the beast get you, Tracker?" He asked, trying to get his mind off of more what-ifs and what could've been. He and Brainy had already smurfed what happened to them, and it was interesting to see the differences as well as the similarities in their two different encounters.

"I ssssmelt it ssssmurfing, or, rather, I sssssmelt the sssame ssssscent I had caught only a whiff of after the then-most recent time it had attacked." Brainy didn't know whether to shiver or to nod. The most recent time before everyone had been attacked, if he was smurfing this correctly, was when he, Reporter, Greedy, and the Smurflings had been assaulted. That was a nightmare to even think about, not to mention mentally relive. It had been painful, nasty, cruel, and all-around unpleasant. That Tracker had been able to find any evidence of such a night was unnerving and made him ill. ""Papa Sssssmurf was busssy, so I foolisssssshly tried to track it down. Jusssst enough ssssso that I could pin point where it was, you ssssssee, but I sssmurfed too closssse. It bit me, at my leg." Speaking of cruel and painful…Brainy and Marco winced in sync at the not quite vague enough description.

Brainy's memories of that night were somewhat foggy, but not as much as he would have preferred. Red eyes flashed where there were really none, and he knew it was a trick thanks to his horrible eyesight. Minds were tricky things, especially when it was most inconvenient. Like, for example, how he was sure he had smurfed Marina threatening Tracker when that was ridiculous.

* * *

Puppy was a cold bleeding mess with a pounding headache. His pack mate, the one who'd been acting stranger and stranger, had inexplicably turned on him and given him a good thrashing. The same had happened to the omega, though Puppy hoped they were in a better shape than he was. The dark magic that had tried to twist and turn his attacked pack mates was likely the cause of the behavior and attack. Despite being very weak, Puppy managed a growl as he thought of the red eyed demon, the one that felt _wrong_ in every sense of the word, having affected his pack mates in any way shape or form. Perhaps his other pack mate, the one who had disappeared, was still around. The Pixie also could've been, he realized, and his tail wagged slightly at the thought of seeing both safe and sound. It abruptly stopped as the wind got harsher and his thoughts turned negative. What if the omega, their disappeared pack mate, and the Pixie were all injured or worse?

It was silly to be so sure they were alright when in reality they could be dead due to various causes. Loss of blood, frozen alive, drowned, suffocated, snapped neck and more kept popping up as said possible causes. They had to be alright, Puppy told himself. Even then, though, what if he was wrong? They were mortal too, could get hurt like anyone else…could die just like anyone else. As much as it hurt to even think that, it was true. Why did it have to be true? Why couldn't they be invincible, immortal? Puppy already knew the answer: It wouldn't be fair, not to all the other people who had lost family, friends, and their very pack and were mortal too. While he would be happy, he and his pack who would never fade, there would be millions of packs and families still forced to separate and die. Still, the pup inside him whined, why did it have to be his pack that was constantly put in harm's way and hunted?

"H-help." Ripped from his far too self-centered inner complaints and worries, Puppy's aching head lifted slightly at the call. That was the Pixie, wasn't it? The pack friend who he was so sure had been destroyed because he hadn't been there? Unless his mind was playing tricks on him, she was still alive and conscious. Hopefully she would stay that way, or at least long enough until he could find her. If she became unconscious before he found her, then she could perhaps die in the weather without Puppy ever knowing, ending up as food for scavengers or desperate predators. Not only would he be very upset with himself, and he certainly would be, but his pack would most definitely be furious and hurt. "Help."

Puppy staggered up, ignoring the now pounding headache he had as well as the screams from his stinging body. Alright, so his pack mate had done more than just a number on him; Puppy wasn't too far from passing out again. In fact, he was very close to it. So close to it, really, that every step was becoming harder and harder and made his body scream more and more. However, Pixie was relying on him, and now was no time to stop. He was lucky, maybe, just maybe, he would also run across his disappeared pack mate.

* * *

Pansy called out for help again, wings flicking slightly as she did so and the world darkening. Everything hurt, and she was sure she had bent at least one of her wings in the initial collision. She hoped she hadn't, really she hoped otherwise. Still, there was something so off about ever simple beat, how every breath she took also sent a million jolts of pain through her body. How could it have been otherwise, how could it have been anything different? Not only that, one of her legs was in a similar predicament and definitely twisted at a funny angle. Everything grew darker and darker, and she wondered if anyone had even heard her pleas or if anyone was around or left to hear it. After the bear had gone wild, the large dog had been chased off and Puppy had been beaten. Perhaps Sweepy had heard her, but seeing as how he had disappeared even before the rampage, it was unlikely. What scared her into eventually stopping was the sudden realization that the red eyed monster could've heard her and could possibly be sneaking up for an attack. Besides that, the world was getting darker and darker, and she felt herself drifting from consciousness.

*BARK* She was pulled right back to the waking world with a very loud, if not very hoarse, bark. It seemed Puppy, at least, was still around and had heard her. Pansy tried to stand up and greet the dog, but her leg gave out on her with a sickening crunch. Puppy rushed over, limping somewhat, and gently picked her up in his mouth. It was wet, but Pansy was just so happy to have her immediate worries put to rest that she had no trouble falling asleep. The next time she opened her eyes, everything seemed brighter, and she was surrounded by a pile of- snow? No, not snow. There was only a good deal of white wool, and it seemed she was actually surrounded by masses of fur and fluff. How had she gotten from being broken on the ground to being in a pile of warm- Right, Puppy. An experimental stretch, one that made her wince, proved that the furry masses were indeed animals that were alive. Puppy couldn't have been the source of all this, though, so who were the other animals? After blearily blinking some more, it became awfully clear that Puppy was one of the animals, as was the big dog that had been with him earlier.

There was also a goat, the source of the very fluffy white wool, and a donkey. All in all, they were huddled up together in a furry mess that was surprisingly warm and comfy. It was so very nice of them to heat her up like that, and Pansy almost forgot about the sharp pain in her wings and leg. Almost. When the big dog moved and kicked her leg in its sleep she certainly didn't forget about it. While Pansy did _not_ cry out, she may have wriggled a bit and hissed under her breath. Naturally, of course, every single animal had to have fantastic hearing for just that single moment, which meant they all heard it and all woke up at the same time, right then. The sudden drop to the ground was almost as painful as being tossed the original time, except now she had more injuries which definitely made the fall more cringe inducing at the end.

* * *

Clumsy was more than excited to see that Puppy and Pansy were alright. Well, okay, not alright, but they were smurfing better than they could have been. He winced when Pansy slid off of his tail and onto the ground with a thud, but was glad to see it hadn't rattled her up too much. Another look wasn't as encouraging, unfortunately, as he now noticed her leg sticking up at a strange angle and how her wings were in a similar situation. Hopefully it wasn't as bad as it looked, or at least was less painful. It didn't look like she had gotten them right then or anything, and he couldn't smurf any blood on her. He rushed up to her and made sure to seem as harmless as he could. Pansy certainly didn't need a scare, not after that red eyed monster had given them all a good jolt. His trying to seem harmless tactic failed spectacularly when he smurfed over his own paws and collided with the ground right in front of her. What was it that Brainy would have said? Oh, right, graceful. Even in his head Clumsy could smurf the sarcastic and exasperated tones and found himself missing his best friend.

"Careful Clumsy, ya almost flattened 'er." Wooly helped him scramble back upright and somewhat away from the spooked Pansy. He just dipped his head a bit and whimpered, hoping Pansy would get the message he was trying to send. Thankfully, and he really was worried about it had she not, she did. Pansy staggered upright and limped over before giving him a good scratch behind one of his ears while smiling.

"Now that we're all up, what'd you two want ta smurf about?" Farmer stretched as he asked the question, everyone noticing the wincing he tried to hide. Puppy also stretched and yawned, looking much better than he had earlier. He was still bleeding, a bit, and looked like he had gotten a migraine, but earlier he had smurfed like he was on death's doorstep. So, it was still a _huge_ improvement. Clumsy tried to concentrate on the conversation and not how good having his ears scratched was, but that proved to be very difficult. He did finally perk up when the other three four legged creatures all but shouted at him for what certainly didn't sound like the first time.

"Huh?" Not his best moment, but to be fair, Clumsy had been distracted. Puppy gave the dog equivalent of a chuckle while Wooly rolled his eyes and Farmer groaned.

"What was the last thing ya heard, Clumsy?" Wooly asked, not bothering too much to hide his smile. Clumsy thought back, drawing up multiple blanks in his search. After a bit of humming and hawing, he realized he had heard anything beyond Farmer's question. When he admitted such, Wooly's poor attempts at seriousness gave way to full out hysterical laughter, Farmer just shook his head as he gave a wiry smile, and Puppy seemed to be on his way to hysterics similar to Wooly's. "Well, you coulda just said ya hadn't been smurfin anything since the very beginnin."

"We wanted to know what you thought about the red eyed demon. Specifically, what other powers it might have and possible effects of its magic." Puppy managed to calm down enough to explain it, thankfully saving him from being smurfed in the dark.

"Ya mean like what smurfed ta Greedy? That coulda been one of the side effects?" Farmer wasn't sure whether to continue being somewhat, begrudgingly really, amazed by how Clumsy had zoned out or to be infuriated. He decided to be both, infuriated once more by hearing just what else the red eyed demon had done to his family and shocked at how Clumsy had somehow missed his and Wooly's reactions to that bit of news earlier. Farmer would have been a fool to miss it, what with the strange ways Wooly and Clumsy had acted the other day, but to know that it happened elsewhere, that it wasn't some insane trick of his mind, well…Farmer knew how to defend himself, if need be, but blood thirst was usually something he didn't bother to smurf with. Right then, he was almost willing to embrace it like nothing else. Under any other circumstances, there would have been no way for his brothers to act like that, like their minds were complete blanks or like completely different people.

These were no ordinary conditions, unfortunately, and they had smurfed like the wild animals they had been turned into. It was still hard to believe that Greedy had struck down Puppy and tried to flatten Clumsy, but the facts were the facts. Just like how it was a fact that Farmer could also smurf his mind like the others had. It almost seemed inevitable, given what they could gather. He was smurfed in a sea of crops with not a tool on him or nearby to help. While Puppy and Wooly worked to get Clumsy up to speed, this time Famer got lost in his own thoughts. What if he didn't just become confused and forget, what if he became insane? What if he went into a deranged fit of some kind and smurfed at his family without even knowing it? What if what if what if what if- There was no end to the questions or to the paranoia and fear brought on by said questions. Farmer was just a simple Smurf with simple needs, and desperately wanted situations like this to go hang themselves and leave his family alone. Not like they ever did, but the sentiment was there anyway.

"… Farmer? Farmer?!" He was snapped out of his wishful thinking by his name being repeatedly called by the other three. He gave what he knew was an unconvincing smile and shook his head a bit when they all finally got back to their conversation, mentally berating himself for the slip. Now was not the time to give into wondering, especially not if it made them worry. They had already smurfed enough about his leg, despite his protests that it was already feeling better. It wasn't, but they didn't need to know that. Farmer still wasn't pleased with himself for letting his leg almost get them killed by slowing him down and making Clumsy throw himself back into harm's way. They were all looking far better than they had yesterday, but Clumsy's throat looked like smurf as did his nose, Wooly looked like something Azrael had dragged around, and Farmer knew he was no sight either.

* * *

He was right too, because Wooly was able to see what he looked like and Farmer had definitely smurfed better days. The way he kept shifting as to get pressure off of that one leg wasn't obvious, but it made it easy for Wooly to remember that yes, he was still in pain and not as fine as he said. Really, their family could only deal with so many hard headed Smurfs, and the limited had definitely been overreached. Looking over again, Wooly was relieved to see that Pansy seemed fine, if not confused, and Puppy hadn't had any relapses with any of his multiple injuries. Clumsy didn't avoid his gaze like Wooly wished he would've, but there were certainly worse fates than being forgiven. Farmer didn't look away either when he smurfed him, though he definitely got more than a bit agitated. If Wooly didn't know Famer, he'd say Farmer looked right ready to _kill_ someone when that happened. Of course that wasn't really it, because that'd just be silly. Almost as silly as them turning into animals.

"So what do we smurf about it?" That was the real question. They knew what else could possibly happen now, thank you ever so much red eyed demon, you smurfing piece of- Yeah, they knew what could happen, but not really how to defend against it. What if Wooly snapped back into that state of not knowing, not remembering? Would it take another few hits or would it be irreversible? If it was a once-only occasion, that was fine, they could find a way to snap anyone else out of it and then be smurfed with the whole thing. If it came back and was irreversible… Hopefully the others wouldn't be afraid to bash his head in until he couldn't hunt them down. Wooly knew it would be near impossible for him to do the same if Clumsy had a permanent relapse, so it really came down to them being stronger. They would be able to do it, somehow. They'd have to, if it really ended up having to be that.

"What can we smurf? We don't know where any of the others are or if they've already had it happen permanently. Fer all we know, Greedy's long gone and is goin ta stay that way." Farmer was just bursting with optimism and good will, and the words were unnecessarily harsh. "If we start heading for the village, maybe we'll catch up with the others and work out a cure. Beats stayin here and waitin for something to sneak up on us." Everyone, at least everyone who could understand him, smurfed along to that. It made sense, even if it was bitter to admit that.

"What about Pansy? Do ya think we can explain it ta her or something?" Wooly wanted to say yes if only to get Clumsy to stop looking so desperate. He looked like a kicked puppy, which he was. Seeing their looks, he drooped a bit. "Never mind, it was a stupid idea…" That made it ten times worse. Smurf, did his brother even know what affect those eyes could have?

* * *

_Hmmm, it all smurfs the same in this fog. Didn't we already pass that rock?_

The beaver was starting to get irritated. Why had he agreed to listen to the voice again? Because it had promised warmth, comfort, and most importantly, family. Just thinking of, those words suddenly made it all worth it again. Why did it do that to him, make him ready to go to the ends of the earth and farther still? Why wasn't he happy with what he had, like the river? Sure the river was fine, but it didn't feel good enough, it didn't feel like home. It was just a river that was separating him from his goal, an obstacle to be overcome. This was that darned voice's fault, he just knew it. Why didn't that make him angry, why did it leave him exasperated, and fondly at that?

_You can get into the habit of being mad of yourself, but it's a hard thing to uphold._

He wondered if they were speaking from experience.

_I've dabbled._

Right, though. He was the voice, supposedly. That warm nice life he'd adored was apparently their life, because they were the same. It was hard to remember that, especially when it was so much easier to just consider the voice a voice and leave it there. It became even harder when they stumbled across weird or different things, such as the gathering they noticed just barely appearing out of the fog. It appeared, from a distance at least, to consist of a strange bird, two dogs, a donkey, and a goat. Maybe the weather was finally getting to him?

_Pansy._

Hmm?

_That bird is a Pixie, their name is Pansy._

Why was it this voice just happened to know every strange creature they encountered? Did Smurfs really know every single creature in existence, right down to the name?

_You'd be surprised. Unless I'm mistaken, we might want to stick around for a bit. These animals could be Smurfs too._

So they lied in wait, as much as a beaver could anyway, and tried to hear what was being discussed.

"-catch up with the others and work out a cure. Beats stayin here and waitin for something to sneak up on us." Cure? Was it possible? No, the voice, Timber, had been right too many times already.

_Yes! It only smurfed, what, a few thousand tries? You finally got our name right. That is, by the by, someone we know._

Great. Who, he wondered, could it be? The voice was vaguely familiar, but only just.

_Farmer. I can only imagine how smurfed he was to become a donkey._

Even if it made no audible laughing noise, it sounded like they were very amused at the least.

"What about Pansy? Do ya think we can explain it ta her or something?" That voice was also annoyingly familiar, but he didn't recognize the dog that the voice belonged to in the slightest. "Never mind, it was a stupid idea…"

_Smurf on… That's Clumsy. Do I really need to tell you all this? Haven't you remembered anything?_

The bea- Timber tried, really. He concentrated, but only got fuzzy images at best. No, wait, there! There was something…


	14. Chapter 14

**It's over._ Finally._ Thank you for sticking with me through this, I hope you enjoy the last chapter. This is the result of sweat, blood, and tears. You better believe a lot of work went into this, though it's probably going to disappoint you. I can't say for sure, though, so I hope you find it satisfying somehow anyway. Ladies and gentlemen, Cave Creature has come to a close. Is it a good thing I want to cheer at that? Don't get me wrong, it's been fun and I've enjoyed doing this, but… Ending it was just exhausting. I have no idea what I'm going to do with my life after this, but eh, I'll figure something out. Once more, I'd like to say that you are all wonderful.**

**Thank you for reading and for caring at all about this story. I cherish every view and every review, every little bit of it. In no particular order, I thank especially: Zikore, Randomwords247, Benny The Crazed Cartoonist, and angelthebrat. Your guys' feedback means the world to me. You have kept me writing, kept me going, because I know someone wants to read this. Well, either that or you're laughing at how bad it is. Either way, it's appreciated.**

**The final chapter, which is _finally_ here, will be brought to you in**

**Three…**

**Two…**

**One…**

**ACTION!  
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* * *

Mother Nature liked to think herself a benevolent sort. After all, many beings with her power and capabilities would only twist and mock the beings they created, while she tried her very hardest to be nothing but kind to them. Despite this, she was torn between getting very upset and just feeling so very worn over the latest debacle her attention had been brought to. Mother Nature had tried to be fair, had warned them before what would happen if they pulled a stunt like this again. She tried to be just and fair as well as kind, but at times, like now, the different goals clashed. If she were kind, then the guilty party would get off scot-free, but if she stayed true to her word and wiped out the entire colony, she would hardly be kind. Would it even be fair to the rest of the colony, if they were unaware and innocent?

No, but then Mother Nature would not be honoring her promise and that could lead to the idea that she was easily swayed by sweet talking or something of that sort. She wasn't, but the idea of dealing with more of these incidents because she let them think she was weak was unappealing. Mother Nature took care not to trip over any logs and not to disturb any animals that were either trying to hide from the storm or getting ready to hibernate. She wanted to get to the Smurf Village as soon as possible. Still, when one blue creature that was alive despite not being of her make ran onto her shoe, she stopped immediately. Dabbler seemed to recognize whatever they were and immediately skidded down to them, giving a very rushed explanation of who and what had arrived to Mother Nature while he did.

"This is Clockwork Smurfette, Handy smurfed her." Every time she saw them, the Smurfs managed to surprise her. It was interesting, really, to see a creature that was so lifelike despite having no beating heart. "Unfortunately I can't understand her like he can. Can you, Mother Nature?"

"Hmmm, it's worth a try." She bent down slightly and scooped the two up, holding Clockwork Smurfette in her hand while Dabbler skittered back to her shoulder.

Dabbler watched as Mother Nature spoke clearly to Clockwork Smurfette and how she interpreted the response. Unfortunately, Mother Nature only smurfed her head slightly and asked if Clockwork Smurfette would repeat her sentence. When Clockwork Smurfette did and Mother Nature only sighed, any hope he had diminished very quickly.

"I'm afraid I can't really hear her, Dabbler. Her sentences are garbled at best to me and sheer gibberish at worst. I do apologize, my dear." The last bit was directed at Clockwork Smurfette who only chirped and gave a shrug of sorts. "However, it seems like she wants to show us something. Am I correct?"

The mechanical Smurfette nodded and suddenly pointed downwards at the ground, at some sort of little den in the hillside. She came out again and under the protection of the umbrella carrying a limp blue body. A limp blue body made of wood. Was that Clockwork? It had to be. What was he smurfing in that state, though? What were either of them doing away from the safety of the village? Mother Nature scooped the two up once again with her hands, gently prying Clockwork from the very distressed Clockwork Smurfette. "Hmmmm… Another of Handy's make?"

"Yes ma'am. Handy built Clockwork first, and then later smurfed Clockwork Smurfette to be his companion. Can you understand me?" The last part was him questioning Clockwork Smurfette, who was staring at him with her head cocked at a strange angle. She neither nodded nor shook her head, which meant she hadn't. The mechanical Smurfette just tilted her head even more, no doubt wondering what the heck was up with the lizard on Mother Nature's shoulder. "Never mind."

"While I can hardly claim to know much, if anything, about mechanical creatures and objects, I think I can fix the problem your friend Clockwork has." Clockwork Smurfette started bouncing up and down as soon as Mother Nature finished her sentence. "He has too much water and grime in his gears. Also, his heart seems to have been jostled out of place." She turned her head towards him and raised an eyebrow. "A gold heart?"

Clockwork Smurfette was very curious about the enigma the lizard was. On one hand, it seemed to know enough about her and her mate to give Mother Nature their names, but on the other hand, Clockwork Smurfette herself certainly didn't recognize and couldn't understand the color changing lizard. The name Dabbler sounded vaguely familiar, at best. Clockwork Smurfette was rather certain the name belonged to a Smurf, if anyone. It didn't sound like a name a human or other type of creature, like a pixie or a troll, would give someone, at least. Was this one of the Smurfs who'd finished mutating? That was most likely, but there were very few ways to test the theory. Mother Nature could not understand her, unfortunately, and she could not understand the liz-Dabbler. It was quite likely that Dabbler couldn't understand her either. If only Clockwork were awake. He was almost always bursting with confidence and optimism, save when their creator was in serious danger. He was a very creative person too, he'd probably figure out some way for them to communicate.

But he wasn't awake, was he? No. He was waterlogged and damaged badly, and so it was rather ridiculous to think of what he would do when it wasn't a current possibility. She still wanted to do it anyway ridiculous as it was, because it somehow made her feel as if he was awake and well. Clockwork Smurfette needed to think about this, and if thinking about Clockwork at the same time made that easier somehow then it was surely worth it. Besides, thinking about Clockwork helped her almost anytime, no matter how silly it seemed.

She tried to talk to him once Mother Nature brought his body back down into her hand, but he remained unresponsive even after Mother Nature did her modifications that were supposed to fix everything. Looking for herself, she saw that Mother Nature had gotten rid of any dirt and the majority of water in Clockwork, and that his heart was once more where it was supposed to be. Just when Clockwork Smurfette felt like she was going to give up looking for a sign that didn't exist, Clockwork's head rose slightly.

He was unaccustomed to feeling pain such as this. Everything ached, if that was even possible, and Clockwork felt incredibly worn. As he opened his eyes, he noticed he was no longer on the cold earthy ground. No, he was in someone's warm soft hand, and the sharper pain was already starting to fade. The aching, unfortunately, remained. Then he realized he was being hugged by Clockwork Smurfette and he could suddenly care less about any pain he may or may not have been feeling.

It was weird that he was feeling pain, yes, but his mate seemed fine and she as hugging him and all was right in his world. Wait… not yet, it wasn't. Something was missing, something that refused to stop hanging on tight to the back of his mind. He shakily stood up and brushed off Clockwork Smurfette's rushed questions with an equally shaky smile. He looked up to see whose or what's hand he was in, only to see an amused Mother Nature and a strange lizard. Clockwork jumped a bit as what he'd been forgetting hit him like a ton of bricks. His creator. His creator had been missing, _was_ probably still missing, lost out in the terrible storm despite their best attempts to find him.

Clockwork quickly sat right back down as the details of the other day and the search came back to him and the aches and pains all returned tenfold. What were they doing here instead of staying out searching? It was very nice of Clockwork Smurfette to stay with him, and an even bigger surprise to wake up to Mother Nature and her strange lizard companion, but his creator was probably injured or worse. His mate asked him what was wrong and tried to help him up, and he, and it was far from his proudest moment, spoke exactly as he was thinking. She slapped him upside the head and started ranting. How did he know the affection was going to give way to understandable rage eventually?

He winced as she smacked him once again upside the head and yelled at how ungrateful he was acting. After all, it was Mother Nature who had fixed him. That was news to Clockwork and made him sit down all over again. _Mother Nature_, practically the _god _of all organic creatures, had helped _him_, a simple being made of gears and wood? Just as he started to thank her he got another slap upside the head with an explanation that she couldn't understand anything they said.

* * *

Nanny had been watching Baby in the village at one moment and was smurfing out into the foggy forest like a burnt bat the next. She was also a nanny goat. Who knew the demon had a horrible sense of humor? At least, she was fairly certain it was the red eyed whoseywhatsit that had caused this to happen. From her somewhat shaky and blurry recent memories, Nanny hadn't been the only one smurfed by the monster either. The village had been in ruin, Smurfs screaming and running in various directions. In the panic she had somehow ended up out here, alone. Despite how many Smurfs must have fled, the forest seemed utterly deserted. She kept smurfing strange and unearthly noises, but despite her best efforts their sources continued to be a mystery. Until, finally, _finally_, she heard the sound of someone talking. Their voice was a bit on the garbled side, but Nanny was fairly sure she knew them and that she wasn't imagining it. Nanny smurfed up her pace, tying hard not to step on any branches or anything that would scare off the newcomer.

It turned out that the newcomer wasn't a newcomer at all. It was Mother Nature. Mother Nature! With her was, even better yet, the Clockworks. On her shoulder was a lizard she didn't recognize but was willing to bet was a family member of some kind. In their sights, Nanny broke out into a full out canter, hoping with all her might that one of them would be able to understand her. They quickly stopped whatever they were smurfing to look at her. The lizard quickly made its way to the ground and, just as she had hoped, started to talk to her.

"Hello?" Nanny didn't respond right away, spending a few seconds getting her breath back. She wasn't as spry as she used to be, hurt as Nanny was to admit that.

"Same to you, fella. I'm Nanny, who might you be?" It was very relieving to see the reptile smile, looking just as happy and worn as she felt. It was also very jarring to see a reptile smile, what with those jagged teeth.

"Dabbler, and I would like to add that it's wonderful to find some Smurf else. Are you alright Nanny?" Mother Nature leaned down and gave her a nice gentle pat on the hand. From anyone else, it might have seemed condescending. Mother Nature, however, was the least likely being to ever patronize her creatures.

"I'm smurfing fine, more or less. Are you alright? Do we have any plans?" Dabbler smurfed a bit, looking at the ground.

"Well, _hopefully_, Mother Nature will be able to unsmurf the creature's effects." There was a but somewhere in there. "But-" Uh-huh. "It requires getting it to see that what it's done is wrong." That didn't sound too bad. Then again, how often did crazy deranged monsters ever see their actions for what they really were?

* * *

Grandpa was wondering the same thing, though the question was brought on by a much different train of thought. He had been attacked by a ferocious bear with one smurf of an attitude, whose red eyes must have been an illusion, and had somehow escaped by the skin of his teeth. Grandpa had mentally cursed it a few dozen times as his cuts slowly healed before berating himself for doing something as stupid as getting mad at a creature doing what probably made sense to itself. Maybe he'd been trespassing on its territory or had kicked up the hunter's instinct in the animal. Rabbits, after all, were a known favorite of bears. Far from lucky for him, but no real fault of the bear's. Grandpa was just smurfing paranoid, it seemed. He wanted something to blame for the sudden loss of his family, but they could still be alive. It was too soon to assume the worst, to think that they were all- all gone. Nanny, for one, wouldn't let something like a monster keep her down for long.

His chest tightened at the thought of what might've become of her, of what might truly have been her fate. His thoughts turned to a Smurfling just as fiery but less likely to be able to defend herself. Sassette and the other Smurflings, while full of heart and good will, might not have survived the frigid and brutal night. His chest tightened yet again and almost twisted inside out, horrible scenarios filling his head and smurfing to leave. Worst of all were thoughts of Baby, the youngen far too small to be able to protect himself or do anything but cry for help. Nanny had been watching him last Grandpa had seen, but that didn't mean the two hadn't been separated. He needed to find them, find someone, as soon as possible, humongous snarling bears be smurfed. If only there was something in this fog, some way to get through without bumping into every tree and rock. There were no footsteps, or at least, none he could be sure weren't from his mind. He'd heard bits of conversation earlier, and had even recognized the voices, but no one had actually been there.

Grandpa had also seen blurry and shadowy images of his family, but they were just hallucinations. Tricks and fakes, lies and deceit at every turn. This was quite the adventure, but what in smurf game was the demon playing? Was it its idea of some twisted fun, or was it something darker? Things were also getting trickier and more convoluted every second that passed. Even now he could hear a conversation, though Grandpa just grumbled in frustration and continued walking. He could ehar two voices drifting on the wind, and without his new ears he may not have heard them at all. That is, if the voices actually existed. They didn't. There was Dabbler's voice, smurfy, and then there was- His mind was being very cruel. It wouldn't be Nanny; he couldn't get his hopes up. They were getting up any way, and he found himself following the voices. Grandpa almost stopped when he thought about it was probably just another trick, but then heard Nanny's voice. He continued to smurf on, carefully and suddenly very aware of the pounding in his head.

Smoogle's head was in far better condition, but his ears were killing him. The constant sounds and constant rain equaled two constant ear aches, one for each ear and both very painful. He was caked in mud and sticks, calling out every now and then for his companion and her family. Naturally, Smoogle got no response. No living being was out and about, there was just the wind, the rain, the fog, the mud, Smoogle, and more mud. Mudslides were common, and he'd almost walked right into the nearby river at least twice already. His ears were full of rainwater and a strange buzz that he chalked up to losing his mind. Smoogle's dear companion was nowhere to be found, and that was more than a little heart wrenching. That wasn't even going into how horrible he felt about what could have been of the tiny innocent child the two had been watching. That foul creature could have done anything to anyone, especially to someone so defenseless. Red eyed rotten magical beings were nothing but trouble, as past experience had already proven.

Lightning struck the nearby tree and sent Smoogle scampering backwards with his mind screaming. The fiery aftermath lasted for barely a minute, but it was enough to snap Smoogle out of his worrying. He needed to find someone, and panicking wouldn't help no matter how easy it was. Taking a minute to look around, Smoogle made sure to note all of his surroundings. There was one burnt and now smoking tree, a few miserably soaked and thrashed bushes, and straining his eyes told him there was in fact the river not too far away. If he followed the river, eventually Smoogle would find someone. Whether it would be a deranged animal or one of his companion's family members, he didn't know. Still, Smoogle trudged alongside the river and tried to keep alert for any signs of life. It was pure luck though, truly, that he saw the rabbit bounding through some miraculously undestroyed bushes. If he hadn't been trying to see something that wasn't the terrifyingly huge river, he'd have missed them completely.

As it was, Smoogle saw them and quickly bounded after them. Well, perhaps bounded was too strong a word. He limped very quickly over to them and made some miserable attempts at jumping. His loud movements actually went unheard by the rabbit, which was very strange. Out of all the creatures in the forest to be able to hear his loud movements, even over the loud rain and booming thunder, a rabbit would have been the most likely. Its mind seemed to be elsewhere, so maybe that explained it. What would a rabbit think about besides how to get to shelter in a storm like this, though? The increasingly confusing questions were cut short once they both came across Mother Nature herself and some other animals. Each stopped dead and almost had a heart attack, too.

* * *

Sweepy cocked his head a bit and glanced warily upwards. Nothing. There were, unfortunately, no signs of the near-monsoon calming down or slowing at all. He was never going to say anything bad about a hot dry day again so long as smurfed, given they actually got out of this alive to see said hot dry day. The three of them were currently taking another break, but he hoped they get moving before Lazy started to snore. He'd been near impossible to move if that happened, and the sooner they found some other Smurfs safe and sound the better. The river was up ahead, but who knew if they'd find anything or not? It could be deserted like everywhere else, and where would that lead him? Sweepy needed to be optimistic, needed to keep from dwelling on that depressing thought for too long.

What with the downcast atmosphere and bloody sullen attitudes of his brothers, though, optimism seemed harder to keep up. Then, much to his horror, life decided to shake things up yet again. A brown cat, one much smaller than Azrael but none the less far bigger than both Sweepy and Reporter, became visible in the fog and kept walking their way. Well, not exactly their way. It was smurfing at an angle almost parallel to theirs, following some shadowy blobs that were still concealed in the fog. His best guess was that they were also cats, which wasn't good for any of them. Smurfing right along anyway, Sweepy only had to take a quick look to realize the others had also noticed and were just as stricken by the recent development as he was. Naturally, the brown feline chose then to turn its bloody head just enough to get a good look at all of them.

It froze. They froze. The result was a long and stunned staring contest that could have gone on for hours had the shadowy figures realized one of their own had stopped. That meant they came back, and it was a bit surprising to see that none of them were cats. There was a fox, a raccoon, and…Sweepy erased any previous thoughts he had about the group. Seeing the brown cat was the best thing that had happened all day. Snappy was with them. If Snappy was with them, that meant… That meant that the group in front of them was the Smurflings, and that they were all right. That they were _alive_. They were right in front of them, and each seemed more or less okay. They were _right in front of him _and _alive_. The three grown adult Smurfs-turned-into-wild-forest-creatures practically tackled the four children in a strangling hug.

* * *

Lazy was not one for speed. He was not one for moving much if at all before, after, or even during, noon. Exceptions were to be made, however, for hugging the life out of the Smurflings. He'd been, as much as he disliked it, fearing the worst about what had probably happened to the four innocent little Smurfs since the village was attacked. He wrapped his long arms around them, consequently squishing everyone involved in the hug. Still, no one moved to stop him. Well, until the fox went and bit him on the nose. Then the cat and the raccoon bit their ears, the raccoon getting the left and the cat the right, and they ended up in a squabbling pile on the ground. Lazy just rubbed his nose and slunk back a bit. He tried to smurf alert and awake and what he got for it was a bite. There was a lesson in there, one which he took to mean "don't try to stay alert and awake".

"Thanks." That was _not_ sarcastic, not in the slightest. Lazy was just very happy to have gotten bitten, and was showing his appreciation. Any and all sarcasm dripping off the word was just coincidence. Speaking of dripping… He wiped his bleeding nose once again, streaks of the red stuff left in his fur. While the initial pain had worn off, it hurt to have a family member he'd been so happy to see safe and sound purposely attack him like that. The brown cat came closer and squinted a bit at them, making some sort of sound that wasn't quite purring but wasn't hissing.

"Lazy?" Then again, if they had no idea who the heck the sloth hugging them to death was, maybe the reaction was understandable. No less painful, but understandable.

"Hi Slouchy." The arguing and spat had stopped, which was good. Now the fox was pointedly not looking at him, and Lazy wasn't sure whether to smurf guilty or angry. He took a third option and went with tired. "Good to see you." Again, no sarcasm in that sentence _at all_.

"You Smurflings all okay?" Reporter asked, and seemed satisfied when he got nods from all of them. All of them _including_ Snappy, who, in theory, shouldn't have been able to understand them at all. "Did you smurf into any trouble?"

"Not much." The raccoon, _Nat_, answered. Slouchy snorted but didn't say anything. "How about you guys?"

* * *

Reporter's mind whirled with questions and theories, each meshing with the next until it was all just a huge incoherent mess. How could Snappy understand them? When had Sassette been infected, and what the Smurf had she been doing biting Lazy? Would she attack anyone else? Why did it sound like Nat had been lying about there being no trouble? Had they seen any Smurf else besides them before this? If so, where were they? Had similar things happened before, had they just smurfed past their family recently without even knowing it?

"You're sure you're alright, then, eh? You look like you just smurfed away from an ambush." Sweepy also seemed to pick up on the Smurflings' weird behavior. Reporter shook his feathery head and started walking again. Maybe he was just getting paranoid. What Smurf wouldn't be a bit weird after dealing with red eyed demons? The Smurflings were also very young, and they were probably just shaken by the recent events. Still… Gah, did he have to be so suspicious of everyone? Did everyone have to smurf so suspicious? Reporter scowled a bit as his mind kept cranking out endless wonders and questions. His head was pounding, probably a result of both the weather and the never-ending "why"s. Naturally, someone noticed his dower mood.

"Are you feelin alright, Reporter? Come on, mate, don't lie to me. We've got enough smurfin problems as it is." Despite Sweepy now being a good deal smaller than him, Reporter felt as if he'd been cornered by something twenty times bigger than him. "Well? Is it the Smurflings? There something up ahead, maybe? Have you got an 'eadache?"

"I'm fine." Sweepy smurfed an eye at him and frowned. Ooh boy, he was in for it now.

"Smurf the bleedin other one. You know any problems you just bury will smurf up sooner or later." Yup, Reporter was cornered. He thought about snapping back, but the retort died on his tongue. "If it 'elps any, I think we're all 'urtin one way or another."

"Oh, really?" Anything to get the conversation off of him. The Smurflings looked tired and were acting weird, but they'd already gone over that.

"Yeah. Me own neck feels like it's about to snap, and Lazy looks ready to smurf dead. More so than usual, I mean." Well, the neck pain was strange, but it could be chalked up to the walking and the weather. The same could be said for Lazy's even more exhausted look. Both reasons were probably the cause for his near migraine.

"Good luck with your neck. To be honest, you were right, it's just my head. I've got one smurf of a headache." Sweepy still didn't look convinced, but he dropped it.

* * *

Slouchy was not furious. He was not seething. He definitely wasn't smurfing to blow. Sassette just had to go and do that, didn't she? She was acting beyond weird, and if it kept up he wasn't going to hesitate in getting some help. As much help as he could get from three exhausted grownups, at least. They looked as soaked and bedraggled as he felt. He walked alongside Lazy, who was going at a nice slow pace. Snappy was on Slouchy's back, yawning his heart out. Despite his protests that he didn't need any help, Slouchy had known he was probably exhausted and had let him scamper on.

Sassette dipped her head a bit and stayed beside Nat, not looking at anyone. The only thing she concentrated on was the fact that she had smurfed Lazy. She hadn't been thinking, everything had seemed so clear right then; Growl, bite, and then get away. She hadn't even considered that it might've been family, even when it should've been obvious. What was _wrong_ with her? Why did this keep happening again and again? First with Slouchy, and it had been exactly the same; something that smurfed clear to her then had almost immediately turned out to be horribly wrong. At least no one had brought it up yet or mentioned it, so maybe they had decided to forgive and forget?

Nat opened his mouth to ask Sassette how she was feeling, but shut it again. She didn't look like she was in the mood for talking to anyone. So instead he- well, it wasn't exactly eavesdropping as it was "conveniently listening in", and really it didn't seem like Sweepy or Reporter were trying to smurf the conversation secret or anything. It was nice to just hear their voices again, but it was also interesting to hear what was bothering them. While it probably would've seemed weird to anyone else to hear about birds discussing their neck and head problems, Nat had been there and smrufed that. Many birds had discussed how the wind smurfed their heads before to him, and he could vaguely recall helping some birds deal with neck injuries. It hadn't been too recent though, that much was certain, but it hurt his head to think about when it may have been. On one hand, it was nice to know that they hadn't had to deal with anything like what Sassette had apparently gone through. On the other, it was scary because it meant they wouldn't and didn't know how to smurf with it.

Snappy blinked the sleepiness from his eyes and stifled another yawn. Keeping up with animals that were a lot bigger than him and could walk a lot faster ended up being far from easy to smurf. Not that he couldn't do it, but now that they'd finally found a few adults the energy he'd been keeping deserted him almost immediately. It didn't help that Slouchy' fur, even soaked, was really fluffy and warm. It was almost like he was in his bunk back in the village and not out in the windy rain smurfing his tail off. Soon he was snoring like there was no tomorrow, the loud noises being drowned out by the thunder.

* * *

The bunny hopped along, looking for a burrow of some sort to wait out the storm in. After being startled by that- that _thing_, he'd been searching for shelter from the storm. Said _thing _had spots and had appeared out of nowhere, not there one second but suddenly right beside him the next. There had been something in its place before, though…

_Jokey!_

He stopped mid jump at that. _Smurf. _How had he forgotten that so easily? Jokey had been- he'd been bitten? That sounded right, yeah. So that spotted whatever must've been Jokey. Sickly- That _was_ his own name, wasn't it?- had left him behind in the freezing rain. He turned around and started to head back to where he remembered leaving the _thi_\- Jokey, when another thought occurred to him. Jokey would be long gone by this point, heading off to find help on his own. Also, and part of him felt wrong for even _thinking_ it, did he want to go back to normal? To once again be constantly plagued by relentless coughing fits and dizzy spells?

Maybe there was a way to be a Smurf again while being healthy? What if, though, Sickly's horror growing, what if there wasn't. Or, even worse, what if he was smurfed out of the village? That was silly, right? After all, Willpower used to be Weakling. All he had had to do was change his name to fit his new attitude. But, still, he had something. What was Sickly if he wasn't sick? He had other interests, including a few hobbies his constant ill state had prevented him from trying, but would it work? Even Lazy had a place of sorts, at least having an interest of some kind he was very well rehearsed in: Sleeping. But if even Lazy had a place, then maybe Sickly was worrying about nothing. The real question then was if there was even a way to get back to normal while staying healthy. If there wasn't… He'd cross that bridge when he got to it.

Hopping along more or less aimlessly now, Sickly was greeted a few minutes later with an unusual sight. In the fog he couldn't really make out the figures, but it looked like there were at least two horses, maybe three, and a goat of some kind with two- three?- humans. Maybe, though he tried not to get excited, maybe some of them were Smurfs like him. Sickly continued to approach them, but slowly. If they were just humans on the hunt instead, he didn't want to smurf their next victim.

* * *

Hefty grimaced as Handy gave his neck one last tight squeeze. He shared a look with Smurfette when Handy still didn't answer Peewit and Johan's questions. Had something smurfed wrong?

"I'm f-fine. Just a headache." Well, at least he was talking now. "I'm really sorry about that. I've got no idea what smu- came over me." Another look was smurfed between Smurfette and Hefty. It'd failed, hadn't it? Smurf it, that was Andy at the wheel. Or was it? It sounded like he was going to say something before he switched to "came". Was Handy free? Was he okay? If he was, why hadn't he gone ahead and told Johan and Peewit who he was? When they started walking again, Handy slowly leaned down. He whispered into Hefty's right ear slowly. "Please tell me this is a nightmare."

"As far as I know, it isn't." That got a groan of Handy. "Sorry pal. But, uh… You're you? You can hear me?" Smurfette looked ready to burst while Bayard and Biquette were looking at them funny again.

"Smurfs like it. Do you think I should tell them?" Handy gestured slightly towards the other two humans. "I don't know if they'll believe me."

"You should try, Handy. You know Johan and Peewit, it's not like they'll smurf on you." Sweet, sweet Smurfette. Always prepared with a few sensible kind words. Hefty was incredibly lucky to have her with him. He wouldn't have known what to say besides "maybe".

"Hi Smurfette." Handy smiled at her. "I know they won't, it's just- They already smurf I'm nuts. Even if they don't smurf on me, what if-"

"You won't know if you don't smurf it." Again, Smurfette was great. She always knew just what to say and what to do. Handy smiled again, but it seemed a lot more strained.

"Alright…" He straightened back up and smurfed his eyes back and forth between Johan and Peewit. After a few more moments he cleared his throats and got their attention. Hefty hoped this worked, for his brother's sake. It could very well smurf down on them horribly. Smurfette seemed to be holding her breath, and Hefty noticed he was too. He trusted Johan and Peewit, but… Humans were an unpredictable lot and Handy could be in serious danger if they took it the wrong way. Not that Hefty would let them get anywhere near Handy if that happened. No, he'd bolt if it looked like things were going to go south.

* * *

Handy. That was his name. His _identity_. It meant so much and he'd forgotten it so easily. It'd been stolen from him so quickly. How could he have let it happen?

"I think I know what happened to me." He smurfed the words out and was biting his lip slightly afterwards. Hopefully this would go well. It was Johan and Peewit, after all. They were friendly, understanding, and very nice. Handy noticed the other two's expectant and curious looks and went on. "I think you know me, too."

"Really?" Both spoke at the same time, tones varying greatly. Johan looked somewhat skeptical while Peewit looked excited. "Who?"

"I-I'm-" Handy stopped for a second and took a gulp of air. This was so much harder to smurf it over with and be done then it should've been. If he wanted to finish this, he would have to be blunt and quick. "I'm Handy. Handy Smurf."

Their reactions calmed his nerves, if only because they were borderline hilarious. Johan's eyebrows would jump off his face if they went any higher and Peewit's jaw was practically smurfing the ground. Handy started to get nervous again when they didn't move, though.

"Handy?" Johan finally spoke. His face wasn't exactly normal, but he seemed to be trying to smurf it well. "How are you just remembering this now? And how are you- how are you human?"

"My minds been foggy lately. You were right, earlier. Sort of. I was smurfed by some sort of red eyed animal, and the side effects of the bite are apparently turning the victim into a different creature. I wasn't the only one, either." Handy wondered if he should continue. After all, maybe Hefty and Smurfette didn't want Johan and Peewit to know about them. They nodded, though, which seemed to smurf that it was okay for him to tell Johan and Peewit. "Hefty and Smurfette were attacked too. They're also here."

Peewit's face was going to freeze like that if he kept making that expression. Johan's eyebrows seemed to be trying their smurfiest to get off of his face and into the clouds. Smurfette leaned into Hefty and seemed as nervous as Handy felt. Was it his imagination, or did everything get louder all of a sudden? Was the lightning getting closer, the thunder more sudden?

"Are you guys alright?" Peewit spoke this time, jaw sloooooowly coming off of the ground. "Are the other Smurfs okay?" Handy's stomach churned. He had been trying not to think about that.

"No idea. Honestly, Smurfette and Hefty are the first and only ones I can recall seeing after the bite's effects finished smurfing me."

* * *

Smurfette shrunk a bit more as Bayard and Biquette's looks kept changing. One minute they were shocked, the next angry, and now they smurfed confused. Hefty didn't seem bothered by it, but Smurfette wasn't sure whether she was supposed to take comfort in that or feel even worse. At least Johan and Peewit seemed to be smurfing it better. Poor Handy was shaking a little, but otherwise seemed more or less okay.

"Are you alright?" Smurfette almost jumped out of her skin at the unexpected voice. She turned her head to look at Hefty and gave a nod and what was hopefully a smile.

"Y-yeah. Smurfy." Still, the sooner they were able to find the others and get away from all this, the better. "Did you smurf anyone else before now? I hadn't."

"Hmmmm… There was one bear, and it seemed pretty out of it. Sort of like how Handy was smurfing before, only a lot angrier and a lot more violently." Smurfette shuddered. If that had really been a fellow Smurf, a family member, and she dreaded the thought, what state were they in? Could they be reasoned with like Handy had been? "Yeah."

Hefty seemed ready to shudder himself, and she could definitely understand that. Everything was so scary now, so different and so weird and so horrible. If something like this never happened again, it would be too soon. As it was, they were smurfing through it now and they were going to survive. They _had_ to get through this.

"You weren't smurfed when you ran into them though, were you?" Hefty didn't look injured, but it couldn't hurt to make sure he was okay.

"Not that I know. I'm fine." The two were silent for a moment. "Are you sure you're not smurfed? That hunter…"

"No, you came just in time. Was Handy hurt?" Again, he didn't look it, but she was just checking.

"Do you think I'd let it smurf the chance to hurt him?" Oh, she'd offended him. Smurfette cringed at the darker tone and shook her head.

"No. I'm just making sure the two of you are fine." They weren't, not in these weird bodies, but at least they weren't dying or bleeding. It was horrifying to imagine one of them injured, especially if the injury was fatal. Images of either or both of them lying down on the ground, mangled, bleeding to death, and crushed, popped up in her mind. Once more she shuddered and shut her eyes tight, wishing they would stop plaguing her. They were safe, they were here and alive and well and definitely not smurfing to die.

* * *

Tailor felt like smurf. Everything burned, despite the frigid rain pelting him constantly, and everywhere he looked he saw red eyes where there really were none. His neck wound was no longer there, somehow healed, but the pain still smurfed fresh. Tailor was also out of the village and somehow not a Smurf, and while he could vaguely understand the reason he was now a bird, the reason he was far away from the village came up a blank. Anything related to the village seemed blurry and almost nonexistent. His cough hadn't gone away, nor had his headache. If anything, both were smurfing worse than before. The weather could be thanked for that, he guessed. He wanted to get back to the village… but, where was that, exactly? It wasn't easy to navigate, what with his body all but flat out quitting on him.

Still, he tried. He was currently flying, and Tailor's headache started pounding even more when he realized he had no idea how to land. Well, he sort of smurfed an idea, but it was hard to think and hard to breathe, and likewise hard to work on a plan of some kind or to even think through his shadowy "idea". He put another foot forward- Foot? Why was he walking? When had he smurfed into the ground? Tailor blearily looked around, noting he was on the ground now and that a bunny was right behind him. They looked dazed, like they'd been hit. Had he just collided with them? Tailor also belatedly realized he hurt in new areas, so that meant he had probably smurfed into the ground and collided with the bunny. Why was it so hard to remember?

"S-Sowqwdrie."The word was gibberish as soon as it left his mouth and Tailor knew it. So he tried again, with sight better result. "Sor- *Hack* S-sorry."

"Iqqs fqite." Tailor didn't know what to say to that. The other creature was speaking nonsense, its words slurring and making no sense.

"Co-could *Cough* you r-repeat that?" It stared at him strangely. Well, Tailor thought it did. The world was starting to blur again, so he shut his eye quickly. For all he could smurf, the bunny wasn't even there anymore.

"Yueaaau outaey?" It was still there, but it was still slurring. Maybe the crash had done something to its mouth or its head. Or maybe it was speaking a different language altogether. "Yauuue thaeayyyrrr?"

Tailor opened his eye again and found he was lying on his back. He was getting tired of not knowing why the backgrounds and areas kept smurfing and how he had gotten there. The bunny was above him and looking down with what seemed to be a concerned face. He tried to smurf back up, but his neck started to burn even more and Tailor screamed instead.

* * *

Farmer glanced upward at the sudden noise, just barely audible over the storm. He honestly was shocked he had been able to hear it at all due to the storm smurfing everything out, but it was not a pleasing sound. Granted, no sound that had been made during the darned storm was pleasing. The others had noticed it too, with Puppy and Clumsy looking around alarmed and Wooly looking sharply behind them. The only one who hadn't smurfed it, it seemed, was Pansy. She seemed confused by their reactions, which Farmer could definitely understand. The sound was annoyingly familiar and overly garbled and smurfed.

"Do ya think that was, jest meybe, one o' us? Ya know what Ah mean?" Wooly asked, his head facing them but his eyes still watching the spot.

"Meybe." Farmer stated, and he started walking towards that area. The closer he got, the more and more he could make out a figure. What the smurf was it?

"Could be." Clumsy was walking right behind him with Wooly. He sounded optimistic, but he looked a lot gloomier than he sounded.

"I don't see why not." Puppy started limping after them too, and Pansy ended up getting smurfed onto Puppy's back. The five of them got quieter and quieter the closer and closer they got to the furry figure. It seemed to have its back to them and luckily hadn't noticed their approach, at least for the time being. Clumsy made sure to fix that by stepping onto a twig, snapping I and making the creature spin around to face them. It reared up momentarily before strangely backing away and fidgeting. Its head twitched, and Farmer worried that they had a situation similar to what happened to Wooly. While its eyes were blue and not red, the behavior smurfed to match, and Farmer narrowed his eyes.

"_Did you smurf that_?" The beaver, because they were now close enough to see that that was what it was, had a slightly garbled voice. Glances and glares were exchanged. No one who could understand it had missed what it had said or its choice of words. The voice, like the sound earlier, was annoyingly familiar even though it was distorted. Farmer was getting frustrated with it all, and he resisted the urge to throttle the beaver and demand answers. For one thing, his leg would probably give out on him again if he did that. For another, the beaver would probably throttle him right back.

Wooly recognized the voice, even if he smurfed to be the only one who did. That was Timber. Timber. Timbertimbertimbertimbertimber. Was he okay? What if he was smurfing for a break down like Wooly had been? Did he recognize them? Of course he did, right? Why wouldn't he? Then again…

What if he didn't and had no smurfing idea who any of them were? Why weren't any of them _sayng_ anything? Why did his throat have to be so dry right then? Why could he say something, smurf it?!

"T-Timber?" Finally! The word was much harder to get out than it should have been. At least the others seemed to find their voices then, making the connection quickly.

"What smurfed ta ya?" Farmer asked, and he looked ready to snap. The weather seemed to really be getting to him.

"How're ya smurfin'? Ya feelin' fine?" Clumsy was all smiles and yet still keeping his distance. Not that Wooly blamed him. There was still a chance that Timber would smurf out on them and attack.

"_I was smurfed. Now I'm fine._" Timber's eyes looked sort of foggy, but that could've been the weather. Yeah, like that was all it was. "_You heard it, though? The screech?_" That noise had been a screech? It had sounded like the bellowing of a burning demon to Wooly.

"Y-yeah. We smurfed it, alright." Timber started walking forward, uncoordinated and almost like he was in some sort of daze. A terrifying thought struck Wooly; What if this was a trap set by the red eyed demon? What if it knew they'd go after such a sound in case it was family, only to finish them off then and there when they finally arrived? He glanced over at the others, though it was harder to tell what some were smurfing. Farmer was now full out glaring at Timber's back, probably as suspicious of this as Wooly, while Clumsy just looked really hopeful.

* * *

Puppy wasn't sure what to think. On one hand, finding another pack mate was a good thing, wasn't it? On the other, they didn't seem to be in control, and they reeked of black magic almost as much as the bear pack-mate had, and _that_ had turned out far from desirably.

"What do you think, omega?" It was more or less obvious what their other two pack mates thought. Both were eyeing the beaver and one was even glaring and sneering. Puppy had no doubt that if anything suspicious happened a fight would break out.

"We~ell, it's great ta see Timber again." The omega hummed a bit and tilted his head. "Honestly, though? Somethin' smurfs… off 'bout him. Really off. An' it's not jest tha voice."

"Oh?" Puppy lowered his voice, just in case the other pack mates overheard them. He didn't want to set anyone off or cause any in-pack fighting.

"Yeah. His eyes're kinda weird, and he keeps twitchin'." The omega's voice was also lowered. "It's kinda like how Wooly an' Ah smurfed when we- we…Ah just don't want anybody ta get hurt."

"They probably won't. Worst comes to worst, it's four to one." The omega nodded.

"Five ta one. Don't ferget 'bout Pansy." He gesture with his tail to the poor Pixie on Puppy's back.

"Ah, right." It seemed kind of silly, as she couldn't understand them and was badly injured, but he mock-entertained the omega's notion anyway. They continued on silently, no one speaking. Puppy's limp kept slowing him down, and the other pack mate's battered states similarly handicapped them. The beaver wasn't, though, and he didn't even seem to notice that the others weren't able to keep up with him. The fog started to swallow him up again, hide him from their view and make him disappear once more, when their roaring shouts finally got his attention.

"_Sorry. I'll smurf down._" It wasn't patronizing or condescending, but Puppy had to remind himself of that so the fur on his back and neck didn't stand up straight. _"A-Are you all okay?_"

No one answered. Puppy considered, but figured it wasn't exactly his place. The others weren't being too trusting, so he would also keep his mouth shut. Surely they noticed the magic. Just thinking about it made Puppy want to growl, but, again, it wasn't his place. If his fears were unfounded, he didn't want to chase away or set off the pack mate. They'd had enough problems and encounters already.

* * *

Pansy was very, very confused. She was also in a good deal of pain. The group had all perked up for some reason and then gone to chase down a beaver. She was comfortably placed on Puppy's back and luckily not in excruciating pain. She turned her head to look back at her wings and winced. That… Just looked wrong. Sick and wrong and so very, very sick. How was her leg even still attached to her body and not on the ground…? And her wings- Why? They looked like they'd been through a dozen rock slides and pelted with sludge until they snapped, and that was describing it nicely. Thinking about something else would probably be best. Pansy looked away and forced herself to think about other things. So she decided to focus on a question that had been bothering Pansy since she woke up; how in the world was she going to do anything? She didn't want to be useless, and she would at least like to walk on her own. Mooching off of Puppy, who was also injured, felt wrong.

Then again, what else could she do? The animals seemed to be getting antsy, snarling at little things and making all sorts of other sounds. That meant getting underfoot was not a smart move. Also, it wasn't as if she could exactly fly alongside or above them. Her head started to pound and Pansy let her body hit Puppy's fur as her thoughts jumbled. Whether she wanted to help or not, right now Pansy was going to have to accept being helpless. She'd hopefully figure something out later. Her eyes closed and she gave into sleep. Neither the wind nor the rain could stop her from slipping away.

* * *

Clumsy glanced over towards Pansy, who was sleeping on Puppy's back. It was nice to see that she could fall asleep, especially with those injuries and all the noise they were smurfing. He hadn't been fibbing when he'd told Puppy that Timber seemed off. The beaver-Smurf's behavior was strange and almost indifferent. While they'd been overjoyed to find him, he'd been… Distant. Aloof, even. Clumsy didn't spend too much time around Timber, but that didn't seem to be like him at all. Maybe it was just Clumsy himself seeing things, but the others smurfed to have noticed the weird attitude and actions. Clumsy tried to be peaceful often and violent never, but still he'd have to fight back a growl or consciously stop his fur from standing straight up every so often. The weather was getting to them, this was silly. Timber was family. He'd smurfed through a lot, that was all. Who wouldn't get cranky if they'd been more or less forced to go through the violent weather and soaking forest alone?

The awful sound from earlier rang out again, much clearer and much more frightening. Just hearing it sent a shiver down Clumsy's spine. His ears perked up, as did Puppy's, and everyone looked up. Pansy had been woken up and was also looking around wildly, which meant she had heard it this time. Clumsy felt like he had a few dozen stones in his stomach. Pansy was in a horrible state, Puppy was having trouble walking, and the rest of them, save Timber, were also battered. If that sound came from something that wanted to hurt them… No. No, they'd be fine. Nothing else was going to happen to Pansy, and they'd find their family and smurf back to the village and all return to normal. Whatever was bothering him was unfounded and Clumsy was just imagining things. They would get out safe and sound like they always did. Now he just had to believe that. He tried to smile, if only for himself. That smile fell when violent thudding sounds got closer and louder.

Something, someone, else had also smurfed the sharp noise and had followed it. They sounded like they were pretty big, too. With what had already happened, it didn't seem like too much of a stretch to say they were also probably very angry and maybe even violent. Clumsy's heart sank even lower when he realized that it could've been Greedy that had heard it. Greedy was also probably still crazy, which meant… Clumsy gulped and his head lowered a bit as he whimpered. Hadn't they already smurfed through enough of these things? The loud newcomer got even closer and he shut his eyes tight. Out of the fog came the thudding's source; Two horses, one goat, and a deer. Most importantly, Johan and Peewit were with them. One of the horses was Bayard, and the goat was Biquette. There was also one human he didn't recognize, but he smurfed nice enough. Clumsy perked right back up and gave a quick sigh of relief. Looking around, he noticed he wasn't the only one.

Timber looked up at the horses and other creatures. There was something very familiar about the humans. Johan and Peewit. They were friends, right? Right. They weren't a threat and were generally nice beings. They could help? Maybe. They couldn't understand them, though? Most likely. Timber tried to smurf back the headache he had. He was both separate and combined, and even that didn't make any sense. He had the memories of when he'd become a beaver and forgotten everything, yet he had the memories of when he'd remembered and smurfed against the him that had forgotten. It was… complicated.

He looked around; The do- Clumsy had a huge smile on his face, if weary, and was also looking around at them. The g- Wooly. Wooly wasn't exactly smiling, but he certainly smurfed relieved. Th- Farmer was smurfing up at the other creatures with something of a bitter smile. Puppy smurfed defensive, head raised high and growling slightly. Something was wrong? It must've been. But what? He didn't know. The horse, deer, and human he didn't recognize were looking at Puppy, and it seemed like they recognized him. So that was what was smurfing Puppy, maybe? The human was an enemy he'd smurfed with before? If they were, what were they smurfing with Johan and Peewit? Most importantly, were they going to harm Puppy or anyone else?

* * *

Timber coughed a bit as they got closer. So _that_ was it. The three new creatures stank of a foul stench that was unfortunately familiar to him. It had been wearing off of him and the others, but it smurfed to be relatively fresh, at least when it came to the human. Did that mean…? Were these also Smurfs that had been turned? How had they found Johan and Peewit? Did they know or were they like hi- Like how Timber had been? If they weren't, who the smurf were they and what were they doing? No, they must have been turned Smurfs. It seemed pretty clear that they recognized Puppy, and they seemed more joyful than angry or sadistic. The deer stepped forward, ahead of their group and looked down at them. Their eyes, smurfy blue, jumped from creature to creature rapidly. Their smile got wider and wider as they did so. Puppy's growling faded slowly and he smurfed to be trying to calm down. Both groups ended up being in some kind of stare-off, neither acting nor talking.

Thankfully, they didn't need to. The scream echoed once again, the sound making Timber's head near explode. Everyone's heads snapped towards the soaked shrubs the shriek had come from. While still no one talked, everyone started walking towards the bushes as quietly as they could smurf.

"Who do ya think they are?" That was Wooly. He was right beside Timber now, his eyes not leaving the three strangers.

"No clue? I've got one smurf of a headache just thinking about it." Well, Timber had had the headache before then too, but their arrival hadn't smurfed. "You?"

"Smurfs me. Ah think they might be like us, ya know." Timber hmmd in agreement but didn't answer. The horse and the deer seemed to have overheard them, and if they weren't to be trusted… He wasn't going to smurf it.

"Wooly? Timber?" Smurf it. Double smurf it. The deer _had_ overheard them and had walked over. Smurf it. Hold up, that voice. Maybe their overhearing wasn't such a bad thing. Then again, maybe it _was_ a bad thing and he was hearing stuff that didn't exist, somehow willingly changing the voice.

* * *

"Smurfette?" Wooly didn't want to give into a trick, but it was just so relieving to hear her voice. She sounded okay. She sounded like she was all there and fine. That, in part, was worth the near heart attack that everyone had almost had thanks to her and the others' hoof beats. "What're ya doin'? Who're tha other two?" He tried to keep his voice down and all, making sure not to alert anyone else of smurf the being that screamed. They were all right in front of the dripping plants now, and everyone winced at the very loud and very twisted screech that came from inside it.

"Come on, please, they'll overhear." The voice wasn't familiar in the slightest. Hackles were raised by those who could smurf and understand the rushed plea.

Another very loud and very frightening sound shook them all to their cores, but it was much more ferocious in nature. Wooly smurfed his eyes tight and cursed under his breath. That was a bear's roar. That was the roar of a bear that was practically on top of them. Smurf it.

"SMURF FOR IT!" A few voices screamed, Wooly's included, and then there was a lot of chaos. Everyone scattered, smurfing behind nearby trees and getting as far away from the furry hulking behemoth. Wooly found himself beside Farmer, the unknown horse, and the unknown human.

"Ah'd smurf anythin' that that's Greedy." Farmer growled, bracing as, just their luck, said bear turned on them. Wooly grimaced at the red eyes glaring at them all. Another roar sent the four of them recoiling backwards.

* * *

"Smurfs so. Any ideas?" Hefty glanced down at the goat and the donkey, each of which looked like they'd already taken a beating. The donkey, Farmer he thought, was already limping and hunched over. If they were attacked smurf on, he wasn't going to be able to get out of the way in time or fight back.

"Let's smurf 'em hard and smurf 'em quick. Maybe it'll work on him like it worked on me an' Clumsy. " Hefty guessed that must've been Wooly. He glared at the bear, who he supposed was Greedy and the bear from earlier, and he tried to look intimidating. Hopefully it would make him back down if even for a second, but Hefty doubted that. Greedy hadn't smurfed down before and probably wouldn't this time.

"Smurfing you actually helped?" Wooly glanced up and nodded at Handy.

* * *

"Ya wouldn't believe how well a few smurfs ta tha head fixed it. Ah don' know if it'll work on him, but it can't hurt ta try." The words were grim. Handy winced at the thoughts that filled his head. Yes, this could hurt. It could get Greedy killed or it could get one of them killed, or it could get them all killed. Where was his workshop when he needed it?

He didn't have to dwell to long on that, as Greedy lunged at them with another roar. They scattered yet again, Farmer just barely smurfing out of the way of one of Greedy's paws. Hefty bolted and the two found themselves beside Puppy and the other dog. The bigger one looked like they'd been smurfed across the face, fresh wounds making both Hefty and Handy wince. Greedy turned on them and charged, missing Puppy and the other dog. Unfortunately, him smurfing them meant Handy and Hefty were more or less trapped between him and a few very close trees. Hefty was slashed on his side, Greedy's claws digging deep, and Handy's hand was grazed. For all his roaring, Greedy seemed unfocused, and that was the only reason both of them weren't on the ground or worse.

Hefty hissed as he kicked back at Greedy, just barely missing yet another slash. He managed to get the smurf out of there when Greedy lurched back, but it wasn't as easy as Hefty would've hoped. To be honest, it felt like he barely smurfed it out.

"You alright, pal?" Handy could kill Hefty for being so selfless. Handy had a few minor scratches and cuts while Hefty had five deep heavily bleeding wounds and _he_ was the one being asked if _he_ was okay?

* * *

Greedy was in a blur. Everything he tried to do, his body smurfed the opposite. When he had heard the screeching and screaming he'd run to it as fast as he could. While he'd wanted to help, however, whatever was controlling his body wanted to harm and smurf them. He didn't know if it was better or worse when he'd found an array of other creatures there, including ones he knew were family. Including Smurfs he knew he'd smurfed and beaten. Greedy had wanted to apologize, to do something to make up for it, but in his sleepy haze the **_other_** had tried to attack them yet again. He started to see them once more as targets and enemies to attack and smurf away. The **_other_** had more or less demanded he obliterate them, made him take out his anger at the **_other_** for attacking in the first place on them.

And he did. That made him furious with himself, which meant the**_ other_** used that anger to attack, and that made him even angrier, and that led to a painful cycle. It smurfed him up the wall.

Greedy'd smurfed Clumsy right in the face, and had smurfed both the horse and the human. Why couldn't he stop?

**_You don't want to stop. You want to beat them. You want to make them pay._**

No, he didn't. He never wanted to see anyone hurt. Why was he hurting them? What did the **_other_** gain from this? What could anyone gain from this?

**_It's not to gain. It's insulting to even think that. It's revenge. The demon did this. The demon hurt you and your family. Hurt innocent cubs._**

Not them, though! His family would never. Getting revenge against the red eyed monster was one thing, but hurting his family was unfair. They didn't deserve it. That was just as bad as what the creature had smurfed.

**_Aren't they all to blame? No innocent cubs are here, no. All that is here are fiends that let it get away; let it continue even after harming family._**

What could they do? It was impossible, everything had been tried and smurfed. Nothing had worked.

**_WRONG. You saw, when you practically begged me for help. It can be harmed, can be eliminated. We were almost able to end it with just a small group._**

I never asked for your help.

**_Yes you did. Remember? You wanted revenge and I was willing to help. I had the means you needed. I helped you crush and send the monster running. I helped defeat those that tried to stop us from ending it._**

They didn't want to be murderers. I didn't want to smurf a murderer. You almost made us a murderer.

**_I've tried to help you since the beginning. That's the reason I'm in control. You'd back away last second. You want revenge as much as I do, but you refuse to see it through. They are all guilty. They are all affected._**

No they're not. Stop smurfing this, please. It's only hurting our family! What do you mean, they're affected?

**_The demon. Just like I am here, others have risen in your family. They're being taken over, being forced to keep from harming the monster and getting revenge. Determined to keep us from getting just revenge on the beast._**

Maybe they want what's best without having to kill. We don't have to do this. We can stop now and make sure the monster doesn't smurf anybody without having to end it.

**_… Maybe. If you're wrong, though? If we let our guard down to only be slaughtered ruthlessly? What then?_**

Then we're slaughtered ruthlessly. What if I _am_ right, though? That would make us as bad as the demon. Maybe even worse. That's family we're attacking. That's family we're trying to kill and smurf to the ground.

**_…_**

Please?

**_Fine. Fine! If you're wrong, though, I can smurf I told you so a million times over._**

Deal.

* * *

Painter wondered why he smurfed anything would go simply or even right. It hadn't at all yesterday or even the day before that, and it certainly wasn't going to smurf now. He'd woken up to the _effrayant_ noises of a roaring creature of some kind and multiple screams. He smurfed out of the cave with Vanity right behind him like his tail was on fire. There was a chance that those are Smurfs screaming, but Painter didn't let his hopes get to high. If it was Smurfs, anyway, they were in trouble and he really didn't want that. Their family had smurfed through enough recently. Whatever was roaring sounded _meurtrier_ and vicious, something Painter dreaded meeting or even glimpsing. The two of them entered a few shrubs that sounded to be very near the action.

The plants were already occupied, however, by a bird that was twisting on the ground, shrieking and yelling, and a bunny that seemed to be at their wit's end.

"Please, please, please smurf doing that. Please tell me what's wrong!" The bird didn't answer and only screamed louder. Painter shared a look with Vanity. The bunny had used "smurf", but their voice wasn't at all recognizable.

"Pardon me, but who do you happen to smurf?" Vanity asked, his tail feathers fluffing a bit irritably. Painter sighed and mentally prepared himself in case Vanity dragged the _pauvres _bunny into some kind of verbal fight or spar.

"Vanity?" When the bird nodded, somewhat stiffly, the bunny seemed to relax. It gave a huge smile that was only slightly unnerving. "I'm Sickly."

"Sickly?!" Both Vanity and Painter were confused. After all, Sickly didn't smurf like that. The bunny was too… Healthy, really. Sickly always sounded "sick", for no better way to put it, whether because of a sore throat or a stuffed up nose or something completely different that was nevertheless a symptom of something or other.

"Say what you want, but at least being smurfed has done one good thing for me." Sickly explained, smile shaking a bit as the bird screamed again. "I'm not sick anymore! I feel- I feel healthy."

* * *

Vanity wasn't sure how to take that. On one hand, good for Sickly and all that, congratulations and so on. On the other, how could he be so smurfing happy when the bird _right next to him_ was smurfing up such a storm? Vanity was a delicate being and he just knew he'd get a headache or even a migraine if the shrieks and screeches continued. A migraine was not something with which Vanity intended to put up with. No, he was going to smurf an end to the cursed noises as soon as physically possible.

"That's nice, but what exactly is smurfing with him? Who _are_ they?" There. Polite yet directly to the point. Vanity pointedly ignored Painter slamming his filthy ratty head into the ground repeatedly. Some Smurfs just had no sense, and Painter was unfortunately one of such.

"I have no idea." Fascinating. Of course he didn't. Some Smurfs… "I mean, I think he's like us, but when we first met he was dazed and his words were slurred. Then he started screaming. Honestly, he smurfs a bit sickly." He thought himself clever for thinking that one up, didn't he. Vanity found himself yet again exasperated at certain Smurfs' ideas and views of cleverness.

"Any idea of 'ow to smurf 'im?" Painter, who had finally stopped acting like an immature little brute, asked.

"Nope." Sickly looked down at the ground and scuffed the filthy mud with his equally filthy foot. Just when Vanity was sure he had reached his smurfing point, the bear from earlier roared again. It sounded as if the animal was. Right. Behind. Them.

It was official: Vanity's smurfing point had been reached. The migraine was near inevitable now. On top of it all, he was very likely to end up eaten. Smurftastic.

* * *

Gourdy was a confused little Genie. Despite his best efforts, eh couldn't track down or reverse the effects of the red eyed thing's magic. It almost scared him, how violently the magic reacted with any of his own. It _did_ scare him that it seemed invincible to any and everything he could do. When he'd left to go after his master in a desperate attempt to somehow fix it, he'd been pushed away suddenly by the same kind of magic. The red eyed creature did _not_ want him interfering with whatever plans it had. Thankfully, the magical barrier seemed temporary, and Gourdy was soon able to dart after where he'd last seen his master. Unfortunately, there was still some kind of magical cloaking spell on anyone the magical being had attacked, meaning he couldn't teleport to them no matter how hard he tried.

Gourdy felt like a failure of a Genie. He hadn't failed a master like this before. Well, he might've accidently screwed a few wishes up here and there, but he'd never failed at actually granting the wish. To have it blocked off entirely was like someone stabbing at his heart. Each time he tried to locate his master and failed was another stab at his magic. It wasn't a matter of pride so much as a matter of purpose. His entire life revolved around granting wishes, and having that purpose denied hurt more than being cast out by a master did. So he was reduced to wandering the forest in a desperate attempt to find his master. It occurred to him to get back to the village, but every time he thought about it it was cut off by the much more primal urge to find his master.

_Find his master. Do his duty. Do the job right for once._

Still, days later he had found nothing. His magic was writhing and twisting, begging to finish what had been asked of him. It was getting restless and even nasty, not something any Genie wanted.

_Find his master. Do his duty. Do the job right for once. Overpower the creature's magic._

When he heard the screaming and then the bear roaring, Gourdy had barely enough time to even think before he was zooming towards the noise. It was as good a chance as any, and if that was his master screaming he needed to get there immediately.

_Find his master. Do his duty. Do the job right for once. Save his master._

Sure enough, practically a crowd of assorted creatures were fighting against a very large and very enraged bear. One of them was his master, he knew it. Gourdy recognized the form, having seen it before his master took off and he was magically restrained. It also wasn't hard to see the bits and pieces of the red eyed _monster_'s magic in almost all the beings present.

He didn't miss how most of them were injured in some way, his master with a bad limp and a battered body.

_Find his master. Do his duty. Do the job right for once. **Destroy the monster.**_

Gourdy did not get angry often. It came with thousands of year of taking abuse and insults. But to see his master, the only good one he'd had in almost forever, practically broken due to a bear that had been imbued with the demon's magic, made _his_ magic boil.

He zoomed forward, disappearing from mortal view the instant Gourdy made contact with the bear. Gourdy found the magic, but froze when he realized just what he was seeing. The magic was _binding_ with the bear, almost compromising. That certainly hadn't been what the red eyed devil had intended, Gourdy was sure. It seemed like the bear was already sorting the issues out. In that case…

He retracted his hand from the bear's fur and instead went on to deal with the wounded. More importantly, Gourdy went on to deal with his poor master first.

"Gourdy?!" His master seemed to be just as happy to see him as Gourdy was to see his master. Gourdy tightly hugged his master's neck and considered never letting go. He did immediately when his master flinched, though. "Ouch. Sorry, Gourdy, Ah'm kinda smurfed. Wish Ah was better, but, ya know…" Of course, his master was dealing with a Genie and had unwittingly uttered the magic words. The next second, his master was more or less fixed. The bruises were gone and the cuts disappeared. The limp, on the other hand… Annoyingly enough, there was something about the leg that meant the limp refused to go away. More of the monstrous beast's dark magic. Still, Gourdy's master seemed much better.

The next second, right when Gourdy was about to attempt yet again to rip the dark magic from his master, several things happened. First, several assorted creatures charged in from the fog. There were a few birds, a sloth, a fox, a raccoon, a cat, and a Smurfling. Then, from out of the nearby bushes, came a rat, a peacock, a bunny, and a screaming bird. The screaming bird was being dragged by the rat and the bunny. _Then_, a bat and a snake showed up. Last, and perhaps most chaotically, Mother Nature showed up. _Mother_. _Nature_. She was accompanied by the Clockworks, a nanny goat, a rabbit, Smoogle, and a chameleon.

If this was the universe's way of saying it was sorry for the recent chaos and would like to send in the cavalry as an apology, well, apology accepted and heartily received. Apologies like that would be most appreciated in the future if, and, really, when, crazy things like this happened again.

* * *

Tracker was shocked at how much chaos could occur in that small a clearing. The annoying snake-him was equally impressed.

He had not expected anything like this to smurf mere minutes earlier when he and the others had smurfed the roars and screams. Marina and Marco had been unable to come with them, but the four managed to get together a plan. It was that Brainy and Tracker would smurf the bear and lure it to the water fi it was trying to harm someone. Marco and Marina would then smurf the furry thing a lesson it hopefully wouldn't forget.

_If they're not eaten by it._

Tracker chose to ignore that, though he did grimace at the words. He flicked his tongue out a bit as he observed the scene, and calling it a mess was putting it far too kindly. There was screaming everywhere, rushed and yelled conversations smurfing and mixing with the din, and- Was that Snappy? Yep. He was riding on top of a cat- sorry, kitten. Right next to a donkey that seemed surprisingly unbuttered was Gourdy, and there was Johan, Peewit, Bayard, and Biquette next to an unknown human and horse. Hold it- Yep. Tracker used his tongue to take in all the various scents, and as mixed as they were he was fairly sure he knew who the horse and human were. The horse smelt like Hefty, no one else smurfed like they worked out every single day the way he did, and the human Handy, his scent drenched in oil. Mother Nature entered in her ever present majestic usual way, with the Clockworks and an array of other animals in tow. She made lightning strike down very near the clearing, promptly getting everyone to shut up and stop moving. Talk about smurfing an entrance.

* * *

Brainy, meanwhile, was barely able to smurf where everything was and what, given how fast and crazily everything moved. It was much, much easier, though, when Mother Nature entered and made sure everyone quieted. Also, no he did not flinch when she abruptly and far too suddenly made her way into the clearing. The wind has just gotten unexpectedly harsher, that was all. Brainy also most certainly did not smurf straight into a tree when Mother Nature used lightning to drive the point home. The wind just got very, _very _violent and steered him towards said large and very hard tree. He was not going to deny falling on top of a large dog, though.

"Are ya okay there?" The voice was very recognizable. Brainy ended up latching himself to the dog's face. Well, he did after just how obvious it was who the dog was hit him. Not that it smurfed longer than half a second.

"Urrrgh… I'm fine." Then it smurfed upside the head and Brainy flew over to and clutched Clumsy's face like his life depended on it.

"Clumsy!" Brainy was just making sure his best friend was alright, that was all.

"Brainy!" He should've, in hindsight, expected being slobbered on by an excited Clumsy. He, though Brainy would never admit it, didn't mind. His best friend was safe and sound. Well, his face was a bit bloody, but Clumsy was alive and that was all that mattered.

* * *

Marco tried to be patient. He didn't like it one smurfing bit, but he was trying. He really, really was smurfing it his best. He made it for about three seconds after Brainy and Tracker disappeared from view that he let the pressure get to him. He paced, as well he could underwater, at least, and let his mind play out every unpleasant scenario he could think up. It was only when Marina gently smurfed his shoulder did he snap out of his little daze.

"Marco, come see this!" Marina was smiling, even if it seemed a bit strained. What could have happened, what did she smurf, that made her so pleased? He went up to the surface of the river only to have his jaw drop and his eyes bulge out of his head. Was that Mother Nature?! It was. Was that a practical army following behind her, made up of Brainy, Tracker, and a few dozen other creatures? It was. Had Marco lost his mind and finally snapped? He must have. It was smurfing near the impossible, but Mother Nature was approaching them with her animal army and a nice smile on her face. Marina trembled slightly at the sight and Marco could hardly blame her.

* * *

Marina was more than just slightly terrified. So many land creatures she had only seen in the Smurf village, and back then she had known they were all friendly. The literal army in front of her however… It consisted of the one and only Mother Nature, a few humans, a _bear_ that she was willing to bet had been the one roaring mere minutes ago, and both very large beings and beings that were about her size. The very weather seemed to part for them and they were headed straight for her and Marco.

Mother Nature herself stopped moving, but certain creatures continued going forward towards the two. One of the humans was walking towards them, and they had two strange blue beings her size that weren't exactly Smurfs on their shoulder, and Brainy and Tracker were beside it. The human knelt down by the shore, impossibly large brown eyes staring into her frightened ones.

"M-Marina?" Suddenly, the human didn't seem so scary anymore. The entire army seemed to diminish and become friendlier with that one word. Marina had pined to hear that voice again, had dreamed about seeing him again, and even under the rotten conditions it didn't matter. He was alive, breathing and well. Even if he wasn't exactly in his normal state, Handy was right there in front of her and _alive_. "I-I'm sorry to scare you like this. Both of you." Handy amended nodding slightly towards Marco.

"Mother Nature hassssssssss a plan, though. Ssssssshe can sssssssmurf ussss back to normal." Tracker explained, smiling in his creepy snake way.

"The thing is, Marco, if you're still in the river when you return to normal, you could either smurf in the river from exhaustion, drowning, or hypothermia. If we take you out now, however…" Brainy let his sentence trail off.

"If a few of us were to stay behind to help you once we turned to normal, though, that probably won't smurf." Handy was smiling now, eyes not leaving Marina's for even half a second.

* * *

It wasn't as easy as they were making it sound, Handy knew, but these two were worried enough as it was. It had been hard to decide who was to stay and who was to go, but they'd decided. While it would've been nice to have Hefty stay with them, hid best friend had been determined to go and help stop the red eyed monster. He was smurfing to go after being healed by both Gourdy and Mother Nature, and Handy had to smile at the familiar enthusiasm.

"Tracker and I will be going along. However, Handy will stay behind along with the Clockworks." Brainy finally finished. He smurfed back up and started to fly back to the large group. Nice as it would be to stay away from the looming potential fight, he wasn't going to leave Clumsy again and Clumsy was determined to go with their family and friends.

* * *

Jokey was confused. He- they- everything seemed blurred.

**Bite it!  
**_We should slam into it!_

We should jump onto it and take it by surprise!

_How?_

**There's nothing to hide behind!**

_We can't take it by surprise when it's smurfing right at us!_

Then we just jump onto, bite it, and then slam into it!

**_Done!_**

They did exactly that, but were thrown off almost as soon as the jumped on. The bite smurfed no effect, and slamming into it hurt them more than it did it.

_Well, what do we do now?_

RUN FOR IT!

**Reall-**

_Great idea, let's move NOW._

Move they did. They ran right into Grouchy, who ended up biting them instead of the red eyed demon.

* * *

Grouchy, for his part, hadn't smurfed to. He had jumped right on top of Grouchy though, so what had Jokey been expecting? A pat on the head and a "good job"? Smurfing Jokey, especially in his loony state, maybe he really had. It didn't matter. What did matter was that the monster was smurfing right at them and was not going to let them off easy.

If Papa Smurf hadn't saved them by barreling the thing over last minute, they probably would've been smurfed. Grouchy hated having to be saved, but actually being saved he didn't hate as much. What he really _didn't_ hate, though, was the somewhat sudden appearance of Mother Nature and a few dozen animals.

* * *

Baby cheered when he saw them. That was _his_ family. They were smurfing back home, which meant everything was going to be alright. Mother Nature stormed into center, towering above them with a stern frown. She wasn't frowning at Papa Smurf, though, or Baby himself, or Jokey or Grouchy. No, she was frowning at the red eyed creature with a ferocity that could rival Grouchy.

Papa Smurf sighed in relief when Mother Nature showed up. He had been, despite his best efforts, smurfing at his fight with the demon. Another minute and he could have easily lost and been beaten into the ground as if he were nothing more than a nail.

"Do you realize what you have done?" Mother Nature's voice was neither warm nor friendly. It was cold, booming even. "Did your colony learn _nothing_?" Papa Smurf was also willing to admit that he _did_ feel some pity for the now cowering monster.

"T-they took my child! They killed them! This was just; I have done n-nothing wrong!" Mother Nature turned to look at the gathered group behind her.

"Really? How do you know this?"

"I-I saw two of them take my child from my nest. A-an-" Mother Nature cut them off.

"Oh? So you came to them and asked for your child back?" The creature glared but said nothing. "Did you just assume they would so easily and mercilessly destroy them?"

"I gave them warnings! I started slowly, to make sure they understood!

"But you left no notes, no spoken or written explanation for what you wanted?" Again, nothing. "The only one to blame here is you. I understand why you've done what you have, but this chaos is on your head. You must admit that."

"I will not!" The being was violent once more, head held high. "Unless my child is miraculously returned from the grave, all I have done has been for a right purpose."

Papa Smurf felt a dark pit eating at him. Surely it wasn't going to smurf like this, not now. Not when they'd been so close…

"Excuse me, ma'am? Sir?" Every head turned to look at Papa Smurf. He ignored the various eyes and tried to focus on the red ones in front of him. "You never said what your child smurfed like."

"Ha! As if you didn't know." The creature smurfed silent for a moment. "A white egg, perfect. They were so wonderful…" Once more did Papa Smurf feel himself reaching out slightly to the creature. A parent that had lost its child was a being that had gone through more grief than any creature ever should have had to go through.

"Uhhh…" All eyes turned to Clumsy, who looked like a frightened deer. Brainy was wearing a similarly sheepish expression. Various outbursts rang through the group.

"Oh, _Clumsy_."

"Really?"

"Brainy!"

"You've got to be smurfing…"

"What did you two do _now_?!"

"Clumsy? Brainy?" Papa Smurf growled at the two. What had happened this time?

"Well, uh… You see…" Brainy was fumbling with his words.

"Ah was l-looking fer rocks with Brainy, and we found this smurfy white rock. I took it back home, it should still be in mah house." If looks could kill Brainy and Clumsy would be dead seven times over.

"You!" The demon's body was trembling, eyes narrowed.

"Clumsy." Papa Smurf stated, wishing he could just bash his head into the floor.

"Yeah, Papa Smurf?" He took a deep breath.

"You said the rock should still be in your house?" Papa Smurf tried not to growl and smurfed another, deeper breath.

"Yeah…" Clumsy's head was down and he was hunched over.

"Well then," He paused. Papa Smurf tried to reign in his temper. "Would you please GO AND SMURF IT?!"

Clumsy ran off to what was left of his house faster than should've been possible.

"I apologize for this, Mother Nature." Papa Smurf groaned, looking up at said deity. She seemed quite amused.

"Oh, it's alright Papa Smurf. All children make mistakes." Even if said children were 150 years old.

Clumsy came back quickly with the egg, which, admittedly, did look like a rock. Just before he could smurf it to the red eyed creature, though, Clumsy tripped. The egg went flying from his mouth and the world seemed to slow down. Everyone held their breath and moved forward. Just before it could hit the ground, the being caught it in its teeth.

"I-" They took a second. "I apologize. I shouldn't have attacked your family first. I almost lost my child because I hadn't thought to even ask." They took a shaky breath and looke dup at Mother Nature. "I was wrong."

Those were the magic words. In an instant, every single smurf-turned-animal there changed back into Smurfs. Papa Smurf smiled as he felt himself shift back into the very familiar form he'd had previously. Everysmurf else was equally happy. It was chaotic, yes, and very hectic, yes, but his family was back.

Papa Smurf rushed over to them, overjoyed to find his family safe.

"I also promise to do my hardest to keep this from happening again." The creature turned to him. "Papa Smurf, I'm sorry for what I've done to your family."

"We all make mistakes. So long as this doesn't happen again, I think we can smurf bygones be bygones." He turned to Clumsy and Brainy. "Besides, it wasn't entirely your fault. Two certain Smurfs are going to be smurfing in Farmer fields for _quite_ a while." Said Smurfs bowed their heads and shuffled their feet.

The being walked off into the forest with their egg clutched carefully, and Mother Nature soon followed with a smile.

"Papa Smurf…" He looked up to see Johan and Peewit.

"Thank you for helping smurf them safe." Both humans smiled and gave polite nods.

"It's no problem. Still, we had best be going." Papa Smurf nodded.

"Right! If we leave now we might just make it to the castle in time for lunch!" Peewit said, who was already on Biquette and charging out. Johan shook his head with a chuckle and followed his friend.

Papa Smurf turned to look at his family. Thank to Mother Nature, the sun was finally breaking through the clouds and the fog started to dissipate. Papa Smurf smiled and did a quick head count.

Even with the explanation, though, that Handy and Marco had stayed behind, he found with a slight chill that a certain someone was missing. His little Smurfs were currently pouring into the village in vast numbers, many Smurfs finding home because the sudden good weather made it so much easier to return. One Smurf, though, was gone. Miner was still missing.

"Has anyone seen Miner?" He called.

"Last time I did, a cave smurfed in on us." Reporter said, and the dread was back for Papa Smurf.

"That's smurfin it lightly." Miner himself answered, staggering back into the village. He was lucky to have survived. He'd spent the rest of that night nearly freezing, being saved only by the painful change into a mole. "Oi take it we won?" All he got was a good deal of laughter and a few dozen promises to fill him in later.

Papa Smurf sighed in relief and trudged towards his house. A few Smurfs who had some questions followed him, but they weren't the usual gossips. Jokey and Sickly were there, as was Timber, Tracker, and Greedy. Papa Smurf gently shooed them away with promises to see to their questions later. Right now there was work to do. If they were going to rebuild the village quickly, they were going to smurf some magic.

**I am very much aware of certain things that have not been addressed and I am telling you that in this story they _will not_ be addressed. Maybe I'll make a side story to explain and resolve those later, but for now it's up to your imagination about what happens next to who and how.**


End file.
